Keeping the Faith
by CopyCat'sWork
Summary: VERY VERY M. Counterpart to story New York State of Mind. FIXED CHAPTERS!


It was hot and humid… but then, when _isn't_ it hot and humid in Miami? Lieutenant Horatio Caine was just walking on a concrete path away from his latest suspect's house, seemingly oblivious to the heat beating down on his shoulders. Behind him, Tim Speedle looked distinctly uncomfortable as he carried his crime-scene kit, wearing a longsleeve blue button-up shirt and black slacks. Why in the hell had he dressed up today?

Oh, that's right, Horatio made him do it. Why? Because it was Horatio's shirt. And pants. And the pants were slightly too long, by the way, but thanks for asking.

And why was Tim wearing Horatio's shirt? And Horatio's pants?

Why, because Tim's own perfectly good Lynard Skynard T-shirt and snug stonewashed jeans were in Horatio's laundry.

Why was Tim's clothing in Horatio's laundry?

Tim grunted and figured that it was easier to start with effects than with causes. Say, for instance, the effects of spilled wine on his vintage T-shirt… and spilled semen on his pants? Caused by none other than the man whose clothing he now wore.

"Dammit, H, I liked that shirt." Tim started bitching out of the blue.

Horatio snorted. "The wine will come out, Speed."

"And what about your cum-stain on my pants?" Tim growled, lugging his crime-kit. "I mean, not that I _mind_ your cum on my pants, but I'd hate to show up at a crime scene and we need to use the ALS, and somebody suddenly greenlights my ass by accident. That might lead to awkward questions."

Horatio tilted his head, not looking back. "Perhaps you should stop wearing pants that tight to work, then."

"H!" Tim exploded. "I was at your house, taking a nap, asleep _face-down on your couch!_ You couldn't wake me up!?"

"So that's what this is about," Horatio said mildly. "You're mad because I wasted a perfectly good mouthful."

"Damn right!"

Horatio twitched a smile where Speed couldn't see it. They were like darkness and light, the two of them. Where Speed was laid-back and casual, Horatio was intense and uptight. Tim was a bit freer with his language, too; Horatio rarely swore, but when he did… his smile grew as he recalled the look on that retired Marines drill instructor's face when Horatio had finally run out of steam.

Despite the fact that both of them had Ireland somewhere in their heritage, only Horatio looked it. Tall, with wavy red hair and shocking blue eyes, he was a perfect contrast to Speedle, who was a bit shorter and beset with black hair and eyes the color of melted chocolate.

Horatio had told him how much he loved Tim's eyes numerous times, and each time Tim had responded along the lines of 'Yeah, I'm so full of shit, you can see it.' Then he'd grin and tackle Horatio like a playful puppy as they rolled about on the couch, or the bed, or the floor, or in the backseat, or wherever they happened to be at the time.

Tim wasn't picky.

Except when it came to his men, and there was no finer in the world than Horatio. Women just didn't do it for him, which was something he still hadn't gotten around to telling his parents. His mother was always asking him if he'd found any nice girls lately. The only nice girls he'd found lately—hell, ever—usually ended up being not-so-nice. The kind of not-nice that he usually associated with handcuffs and orange jumpsuits.

Tim didn't really understand women; they were so damn complicated, with their makeup and their gossip and their scheming, lying ways. Now, he knew that not all of them were like that. He knew a few really nice and honest women, in fact. It was just that most of them made him recall the Greek legend of the Sirens, and we all know how _that_ one turned out. He also felt that, no offense to his mother, but a woman's private anatomy was one of the most disgusting things Speed had ever encountered. It had only been his second time screwing a girl, when he'd just started fucking, that he noticed that she was on her period, and the mood had died _instantly_. Since that moment, Tim's unspoken motto became: 'Never sleep with anything that bleeds for five days straight and doesn't die.'

Horatio didn't share his views, Tim knew. Horatio would still glance sideways at women every now and then, but Tim didn't mind, because he knew that Horatio would always come back to him. In fact, Horatio _had_ to glance at women from time to time, because if he didn't, it wouldn't take long for others to do the math, especially as often as he went to Horatio's place. Even Eric, his best friend, was starting to give him funny looks at how often he went over to Horatio's.

'Isn't there something in the regs about how a supervisor isn't supposed to fraternize with the people under his command?' Delko had asked once.

Tim had shrugged. 'Probably, but it's no big deal. H is cool with it.'

'So what do you guys do over there? I mean, you go over so often.'

Tim thought fast. He couldn't say cars, because Eric loved cars and would want to come over, and Tim really didn't want to think about what Eric's face would look like if he walked in and saw his best friend flat on his back on the dining room table and with his boss fucking him in the ass.

Not a pretty picture.

So, Speed had thought desperately, and come up with 'Cooking. I'm teaching H how to cook some of the stuff that my Mom taught me when I was a kid."

Delko had stared at him. 'You cook?'

'Yeah,' Tim had said, suddenly defensive. 'And I don't want a lot of people to know about it, either.'

'Why not? I mean, nothing to be ashamed of.'

'It's not that, it's… well, to be honest, H can't cook worth a damn, and I didn't want to embarrass him.'

Somehow, some way, as if God was mocking him, Delko bought it. Speed couldn't believe that Eric had bought the story that he'd just pulled out of thin air. And Eric _still_ hadn't picked up on the fact that Tim was gay—and if he had, he'd been kind enough to not say anything.

"Speed?" Horatio's voice cut into his thoughts.

"Yeah, H?"

"We're at the Hummer now." The redhead's mouth twitched in amusement. "Put your kit in the back, will you? We're off to McCauley Jewelers."

"Nice Rolls. Bet it belongs to the owner," Speed remarked as they climbed out of the Hummer. "Cars are such a bad investment. I'm just happy to have my bike."

Horatio snorted as they strode up to the front entrance of the jewelry store. "Someday you may need something with doors."

"Well, I've got plenty of time for that." Speed shrugged dismissively. "And what do I need doors for? I'd rather have maneuverability than drive a tank." He paused as Horatio held the door open for him. "If I don't wanna get hit, I'll just get out of the way."

Horatio gave a dark smile as he leaned close to the younger man. "I think it's somewhere in the American dream, how every man needs to have sex in the backseat of something at least once. And not just in the company car, either." Tim swallowed as he walked past.

As soon as the door closed behind them, a switch flipped and Horatio was all business. "We're here to see Mr. McCauley, please," he said calmly, hands on his hips to casually push aside his dress jacket, showing the gleaming badge on one hip and his gun on the other.

The man before them blinked. He was thin, looked foreign, some sort of Arabic descent. "Oh, Mr. McCauley is the previous owner," he said in a salesman's courteous tone. "I'm the new owner. Rudolph Koehler; call me Rudy." He tossed a glance over his shoulder before turning to face the redhead fully. "Maybe I can help you with something, Officer? I'd be more than happy to help the police."

Something niggled at Tim's mind; this guy just seemed… off. Too casual. He took a cautious look around the store, hand finding the butt of his gun without really knowing why. His gaze was drawn to two pretty young women standing behind a counter, their faces covered with fake smiles that didn't quite reach their eyes.

"Yes, I've recently been speaking with your customer, Mrs. Tawny Williams," Horatio was saying, just as Speed noticed movement in the back. Behind a glass wall, a man was crouched underneath a table, something in his hands making a noise that made Tim's stomach clench. Slowly he released the strap that held his weapon snug in its holster.

"Yes, I just heard the news about her husband," the man, Rudy, mentioned to Horatio. "It's tragic. She's such a nice lady."

Horatio wasn't really listening; he'd picked up on Speed's tense posture, noticed the hand pulling out the gun. "Excuse me. Speed?" The redhead stepped over to his subordinate, blue eyes following Speed's gaze. "Stay put," he whispered hoarsely to Rudy as his hand went for his own gun.

Rudy kept talking. "She and her husband were very good customers," he said with calm insistence, as though Horatio had said something unflattering about the couple.

Horatio was now next to his partner, sharp CSI eyes locking onto the movement that had caught Speed's attention, his SIG-Sauer appearing in his hand. Horatio glanced at his lover, noting a mask of nervous fear. Horatio knew that Speed hated guns, and he hoped to God that his weapon had been cleaned recently. More movement in the back of the workshop demanded the redhead's attention; time seemed to slow as a door in the back of the workroom nudged open and a man stepped through, a handgun clearly visible.

"Speed!" Horatio snapped out the warning as the assailant brought his weapon up. Tim brought his own weapon to bear, taking aim and squeezing the trigger in a spasm of nerves. He heard the snap of the mechanism, felt the too-loud click of the firing pin, and—_nothing!_ Speed's mind swam with panicked curses as he glanced at his useless weapon. _Jammed, again!_

Horatio let two rounds fly just as the armed man released a few of his own, the firecracker pops of gunfire sending the young ladies cowering to the ground, screaming. Glass shattered and Tim looked up, seeing the standing man fall to his lover's weapon, and suddenly a burning pain exploded in his right shoulder, accompanied by a wet thunking noise and the hideous crack of lead against bone.

Speed dropped, pain overwhelming his senses. It was as though he'd been stabbed by a red-hot fire poker, his nerves screaming in agony as the heat seemed to blossom and engulf his entire arm. His hand twitched mindlessly, and he knew that his shoulder was suddenly useless. Through the roar of blood in his ears, he made out the sounds of glass cascading to the ground, of Horatio shooting at the other man who had scrambled out from under the table and was making a break for the rear entrance of the store.

Another man came out of the back, gun at the ready, and Horatio instinctively dropped into a forward roll, rising to his knees and squeezing off a few more rounds as the man disappeared.

And then it was quiet, guns silent, glass shards having finished falling. Horatio glanced around checking for other attackers and for injured, and his eyes locked onto the beloved figure lying on the floor in a pool of his own blood.

_"Speed!"_ Horatio roared, moving to his fallen lover's side.

Horatio ripped the phone off his belt, stabbing a button. "This is CSI Caine! We have a priority here! I got a man down, shots fired!" He let the phone clatter to the floor beside him, already ignoring the Dispatcher's voice. Eyes frantic, Horatio reached into his jacket and pulled out his handkerchief, pressing it desperately to the gushing fountain in his lover's shoulder. "You're going to be okay, Speed. Look at me. You're going to be okay. You'll be fine." He chanted the words like a mantra, and Tim couldn't tell who he was trying to reassure.

"I… I can't feel… my arm. Oh, God, H," Tim's eyes were wide with fear and pain.

"Easy, partner. You're going to be okay, just hang in there. Just keep breathing, Speed." Horatio's eyes flicked to the blood-soaked handkerchief, now beginning to puddle with the blood seeping through.

"H," Tim's voice pleaded. "H, I can't feel my arm!"

"I know, I know. It's okay, Speed. You're still alive. You'll get through this, I promise." Horatio leaned closer, his right thumb pressing hard into the wound, his left hand snaking across Tim's belly to grab the wounded man's own left. "I'm right here, Speed. I'm not going anywhere, I promise."

Weakly Tim's fingers threaded with Horatio's, glazed brown eyes locked onto Horatio's misty blue ones. "I… don't leave me, H. I don't wanna go."

Horatio blinked back tears that he hadn't realized he'd been shedding. "I'm not going anywhere, partner, and neither are you." He squeezed Speed's hand roughly, commanding attention. "You're not going anywhere, you hear me? Stay. Right. Here."

Tim nodded weakly, the blood in his shoulder leaking around Horatio's hand to seep slowly onto the floor. "H… you're here… why would I want to be anywhere else?"

Horatio gave a sad smile at that, his attention temporarily diverted by the sounds of sirens nearby, and tires screeching to the pavement outside. With precision that should have made it into a movie, an ambulance spun around and slid to a stop in reverse, tires nearly clipping the sidewalk. The rear doors slammed open, medical personnel pouring out, lugging bags and machines and tugging a gurney. "Speed," Horatio half-crushed the wounded man's hand again, grabbing his attention. "Rescue's here, Speed. Just hang on for me, okay?"

Speed shuddered, the pain finally sending him into shock. "You… got it, H."

The glass doors of McCauley Jewelers flew open as the uniforms descended on Horatio and Speed, and Horatio gave Speed's hand one last reassuring squeeze and scooted backwards, letting the professionals do their work. The EMTs jabbered back and forth between each other in clipped tones, barking things about vitals and blood pressure as one of them ripped Speed's borrowed shirt open, buttons pinging all around them.

One of them removed Horatio's handkerchief and let it plop to the floor, substituting a tightly rolled wad of gauze and stuffing it into the wound, and Speed gave a cry of pain. "He's going into shock!" another paramedic yelled, and one jabbed a needle into the younger man's arm.

Horatio watched it all, rooted to the spot. "Horatio!" A female voice grabbed his attention, and he looked over to see Calleigh and Alexx charging the doors at a dead run. Calleigh stood next to her boss while Alexx joined the huddle. "Dr. Alexx Woods, Medical Examiner, former ER doc. What have you got?"

"Horatio," Calleigh asked urgently. "Is that Speedle? What happened?"

"I… there were two gunmen, and Speed drew first. He felt something, and I didn't even notice until his weapon was out. There was… a lot of confusion."

"Easy," she soothed, resting a hand on his shoulder. The voices of Alexx and the medics were starting to slow, becoming less frantic, and Horatio took that to be a good sign. "I need to start processing firearms as soon as possible. The faster I do that, the sooner we can track down the other shooter."

Horatio nodded and took a shaky breath. "Here's my gun," he said as he slipped it from the holster—funny, he didn't remember ever securing it. "Speed's is right over there," he pointed, and Calleigh snapped on some gloves and picked up Speed's gun with one hand, taking Horatio's with her other.

"Is there anything I need to know about the shooting?" Her voice held only the barest hint of a waver, remaining calm and professional despite the adrenaline pounding through both of them.

Horatio cleared his throat, ducking his head. "Speed… he may have had to look at his gun." His eyes remained locked onto the floor, the implications of that statement plain to both of them. "Not again," he breathed quietly to himself, his tone so low that Calleigh almost didn't hear him.

A flurry of motion attracted his attention, and he looked up to see Alexx and the medics moving Tim onto the gurney. "You guys take it from here, and take good care of him!" Alexx demanded. She helped to hold the doors open as the little group wheeled their charge carefully to the waiting ambulance. The doors had scarcely slammed shut when the ambulance peeled off, leaving a neat little parking space for a familiar car to pull into.

"IAB, that was fast," Horatio growled, suddenly not in the mood. Rick Stetler climbed out of the car, heading for the crime scene.

"I'm out," Calleigh announced. "Even faster." She tossed him a lighthearted grin, snapping the locks shut on her crime kit. "I have all the guns, and I'll process them first of all. Bring me the bullets as soon as you find them, okay?"

Horatio nodded as Calleigh stepped out, pausing to sign with the Front Officer before heading for the Hummer. Stetler stepped around her, pausing to watch her for a moment, before signing in and heading straight for Horatio. "That was quick," the redhead said in an edgy rumble.

"How is he?" Stetler asked, body language defensive.

"He's stable," Alexx answered the question, pulling off her bloody gloves. "I'm worried about that arm, Horatio. He'll live, but he'll be damn lucky if he can get it to work properly again. That shoulder was blown completely apart."

Stetler sighed and rubbed his neck. "Great, now you've got a CSI out of commission. Wonderful way to start off my report."

"Rick, can't this wait? The bullets are still hot." Horatio heaved a sigh, already knowing the answer but having to ask anyway.

Stetler's face apologized, but his tone was all business. "Unfortunately, that's the best time for me to be here. Where's Speedle's weapon?"

"See Calleigh," Horatio growled.

"And yours?"

"See. Calleigh." The growl became more of a snarl.

"You know, you should sit down with a counselor," Rick suggested, seemingly oblivious to the redhead clenching his fists, all but baring his teeth like an angry dog.

Horatio squared his shoulders. "Only therapy I need is finding the Williams boy, but thanks for the offer," he snapped as he strode out the door, where he was met by Yelina. Wonder of wonders, she'd already bagged the man who called himself Rudy Koehler.

"Patrol picked him up two blocks away. He only speaks Bulgarian," Yelina informed him in her slight Hispanic accent. "Now we're waiting on a translator."

"I am not going to wait," Horatio growled as he stalked toward the man.

"Horatio!" Yelina hissed urgently, grabbing his arm. "Film at eleven!" She tilted her head in the direction of the crowd behind the yellow tape, reporters and cameramen at the forefront, and Horatio got the message. He turned to the captive.

"I'm going to put you in the car," Horatio stated with a calm he didn't feel, eyes throwing daggers at the handcuffed man, and Koehler swallowed nervously and allowed himself to be seated in the back of the police cruiser.

Horatio rested an elbow on the roof of the car, shoulders hunched with suppressed rage as he glowered at the man. "Where's the boy?" he rumbled.

Nervously Koehler's gaze flicked everywhere except towards the piercing blue eyes. "What boy?" he managed to squeak out.

"Rudy," Horatio growled, "Do _not_ play with me." The muscles in his arms and back refused to unknot, still tense from the shooting, of seeing Speed go down, seeing all the blood.

Koehler managed to look mystified. "What? Kidnap? I barely know Mrs. Williams!" he protested, a thin sheen of perspiration on his forehead. "I may be a thief, but that's all."

"Then who were the gunmen inside?" The redhead snapped.

"Security! But I hired them only to protect the stones." Under the icy stare, Koehler was sweating bullets that had nothing to do with the ever-present Miami heat.

Horatio wanted more from the man, not the least of which was his own hands around the pencil-thin neck, but he restrained himself. "He goes nowhere," he rumbled in Yelina's direction as he straightened and stalked back to his crime scene.

SEVERAL HOURS LATER

"Mrs. Williams," Horatio said with some surprise as he stepped out of the elevator at the crime lab.

Beside him, the little boy whose hand he'd been holding let him go. "Mommy!" he squealed, rushing toward her. She closed her eyes tightly as she scooped Joey up, babbling with relief at holding her boy again. Horatio ducked his head, allowing them their moment.

Horatio desperately wanted to leave, felt a deep longing to be at the hospital at Speed's side, but pragmatism had won. He knew he couldn't do anything to help his lover at the moment, and this little boy had needed him desperately. And so Horatio had stayed, locking his emotions somewhere deep inside him, everything except the cold rage that came from working a kidnapping case.

"Thank you," Mrs. Williams whispered through her joyous tears, snapping the redhead out of his thoughts. "Never occurred to me that Pete was involved. That he would hurt a child." She laid a protective hand over her child's head.

"Well, Mrs. Williams, jealousy is a powerful motivator. And Pete is going away for a very long time. So you guys are going to be safe now." Horatio kept his quiet professionalism, trying to ignore the jumpiness that had welled up upon the reappearance of Joey's mother.

"I-I heard about your CSI. I'm sorry… really." Her eyes offered compassion, and he accepted it. She hadn't really meant to hurt anyone, after all. But her best-laid plans, like so many others, had gone south in the worst way possible.

"Yeah. Thank you. He'll live, by the way. I don't know about his arm, but he'll live." Horatio released a heavy sigh, letting a smile slip onto his face. "You take care, partner," he told the boy, who smiled at him.

"Thank you," the boy's mother said again as she set him down. Horatio watched them hold hands on the way to the elevator.

He felt the release in his chest that came from solving a case, and from reuniting a family. He basked in it for a moment before more pressing matters garnered his attention. He checked his watch, decided that Speed should be out of surgery by now. Flicking the barest of glances at the receptionist, Horatio punched a button and waited for the elevator.

Mercifully he didn't have to share it with anybody else, leaving the distracted redhead alone with his thoughts. He'd almost lost Speed today, that was indisputable fact. He remembered all the thoughts that flashed through his head when he'd seen Speed fall. He could still taste the tang of blood and adrenaline, of sheer fear at losing the younger man.

Twice now, he'd seen Speed fall. Twice now, he'd nearly lost him. Horatio knew, finally admitted to himself, that to lose this young man would be a harsher blow than just losing a colleague and dear friend. To live without Speed would be to live without a part of himself. "I can't do this again," he murmured to the quiet little cube, just before the doors dinged open.

He squared his shoulders as he stepped out into the Miami sun, heading for his Hummer, to the hospital. He couldn't handle seeing Speed fall again, and he made a mental promise to himself that he never would.

Never again.

He found Speed's room with little trouble. Aside from the dark-haired man on the bed, sleeping the drugged sleep of the wounded, the room's only other occupant was Alexx, sitting in a chair to Speed's left. Horatio stared at them a moment, noticing how pale his lover's face looked, eyes flicking over the IV tubes, the faintly beeping monitors, and to the huge steel contraption that kept Speed's upper right side completely immobile. It looked rather uncomfortable, Horatio decided.

Alexx noticed him. "Hey," she whispered quietly. "Surgery went fairly well, but the bullet landed squarely in the ball-and-socket joint. Well, not a joint anymore. It's fragments now." Sad eyes traveled from Horatio to Speedle, and back. "Calleigh already has what's left of the slug. It's not going to do us much good, though. It's almost as bad of shape as Timmy's shoulder." She leaned back in the chair, stretching. "Doctors say there's a very slim chance of his shoulder ever knitting back together properly. He needs to have the joint replaced."

Horatio sighed morosely at the information. "But he'll live."

Alexx nodded. "He'll live."

Horatio leaned in the doorframe, letting his body sag against the cold and impersonal steel. "Alexx," he began softly, "why don't you go home, get some rest. I'll stay with him."

"You don't have to, Horatio. It's not a vigil," she said with her usual quiet compassion, sensing that something was up but deciding to let it be.

"I know, but all the same… I just want to sit with him a while." Horatio let a hint of his internal conflict slip out, and after a moment Alexx nodded. She vacated her chair, giving a last look at the sleeper before heading out into the hall.

Horatio stood there a moment, watching his subordinate sleep. His friend. His lover. "Speed…" he whispered needlessly into the silence. He sank into the chair, suddenly weary. He reached for the limp left hand that lay on the bedspread, careful of the IV sticking out of the wrist, and clutched that hand, threading their fingers and sandwiching the cold, clammy hand between his own. Trying through sheer willpower to make that hand warm, make it move, make Speed be okay.

Horatio let out a shuddering sigh, lifting the hand to press it against his own forehead. "I'm right here, partner. I'm not going anywhere."

"Hey, Speed," Horatio soothed as the brown eyes cracked open. "Hey, how are you feeling?"

"H?" Tim's voice was understandably groggy. "What… the hell happened?" He stretched his good arm, wincing at a sudden shot of pain down one side. "What happened to my arm?"

"Timmy, baby," Alexx soothed from the other side of the bed. "Don't you remember?"

Tim's thick brows furrowed in confusion as he looked around the room. He was in a hospital room, wearing the cheap paper-thin gown and laying on the bed. There was an IV in his left wrist, and his right arm… his eyes widened as he saw that nearly the entire right side of his torso was encased in a huge metal… _thing_, bolted to the wall.

Horatio and Calleigh were sitting to Speed's left, and Alexx perched carefully on the end of the bed on Speed's right. Eric leaned on the air conditioning unit next to the window. "Timmy?" Alexx's voice came again.

"I… I got shot, didn't I?"

Horatio nodded sadly. "Bullet took out your shoulder. But," and here his voice cracked slightly. "You saved my life, Speed."

Tim processed that for a minute, his eyes suddenly going wide. "The Williams kid!"

"Easy, easy," Horatio soothed. "We got him, he's safe."

"Thank God," Speed sighed, settling back into the pillows behind him. He took a breath, eyes going from Horatio to Calleigh. "I guess you guys know about my gun, don't you? I've got some explaining to do."

"You don't need to explain anything right now," Horatio said firmly, ignoring the looks of confusion on Alexx and Eric's faces. "You just need to concentrate on getting that arm up and running again."

"But, my gun—"

"Is in my custody," Calleigh cut him off. "Stop worrying about it, and I'll forgive you for stealing my Crimelite this morning."

"I thought you already forgave him for it," Eric protested, a little irritated to be left out of the loop. Calleigh simply turned to give him a Look, and he subsided.

"Honey, if you ever get shot like this, I'd forgive you twice, too." Alexx said simply. "I'm glad you decided to stick around, Timmy."

"So am I," Horatio agreed, giving Speed a special look. He'd been awake for hours, thinking and keeping watch, and he'd come to a hard decision. "So what are you going to do when they let you out of the hospital?"

"I don't know." Speed sighed. "It's gonna be kinda hard to do anything with just my left hand."

"You could hire a live-in nurse," Alexx suggested, "or one of us could come to stay with you when we're not on duty."

"I don't need that much help," Tim protested.

"I beg to differ," Horatio countered. "You're not going to be coming back to work for a long time, and like you said, it's going to be difficult to take care of yourself with just one hand." Tim looked away, and Horatio took a deep breath. "Speed? Move in with me."

Tim's head whipped around. "What?" The shock on his face mirrored that of everyone else.

"I said move in with me, Speed. I'll take care of you."

"I don't want to be a burden on you, H."

"I can afford it." Horatio stared at his secret lover, giving a quick look of affection and reassurance.

"But… you're a workaholic. I'd barely even see you." Speed's rich brown eyes, locked onto Horatio's blue ones, failed to notice the glances exchanged between the other CSIs.

"But you _would_ see me. And who says we can't ask you to consult on a case?"

"Says IAB," a new voice announced firmly, and the group turned as a whole to see Rick Stetler in the doorway. "Tim Speedle, you're being asked to surrender your badge."

Mouths dropped.

Stetler's gaze shifted. "CSI Duquesne, what the hell is this? 'Weapon Malfunction?' That's twice now that Speedle's gun hasn't fired a single shot whenever he's drawn it. Different guns, same problem. Either you tell me what's going on or I'll—"

"Or you'll _what_, Rick?" Horatio rumbled, and Speed couldn't suppress a shiver. To call H's voice cold was to call a mountain a pebble.

Rick swallowed, but stood his ground. "Or I'll find a different firearms examiner to test the weapon. And when they found out what the 'malfunction' was, then everybody's going to be taking a good hard look at Ms. Duquesne's ability to—"

"I never cleaned it."

Stetler cut off in mid-sentence as the group swiveled back to the figure on the bed.

"I never cleaned it. I hate guns." Tim took a deep breath, wincing as it shifted his shoulder. "If I make a formal statement saying that, will you leave Calleigh's report alone?"

Stetler looked at the forlorn man on the bed, and the rest of the team arrayed around him, and another peg fell into place. "I will, if you'll sign that statement—and if you'll turn in your badge _permanently_."

"You can't do that," Eric started, but Tim raised his good hand to cut him off.

"Eric, it's okay. I want to." Everyone was staring at him open-mouthed, so he continued. "The lab means a lot to you guys, but it's just a paycheck to me. Besides, it's not like I can process evidence with my dominant hand out of commission."

Horatio opened his mouth, swallowing past the lump in his throat. "You sure about this, Speed?"

Speed gave a heavy sigh. "Yeah, I'm sure."

Stetler furrowed his brow. He'd expected more of a fight than this. He'd wanted to ding Calleigh, if only as a smug little message to Horatio that not everybody was perfect, but to see Speedle just give up like that only irritated him. "You're not just gone, Speedle," he said crisply. "As soon as you're out of that bed, you're going to be reviewing all your old cases from the last six months." He hunched his shoulders, glaring at the room. "You people covered for him on this, who knows what else you—"

"Rick?" Horatio's growl interrupted him. "Do not go there."

The IAB man gave a swagger, full of bravado as he stepped into the room. "He's a big boy, Horatio. He can clean up his own messes… or at least he could, before he almost got himself killed."

Horatio twitched. "Leave him alone, Rick. You don't want to mess with him right now."

"Or what? You'll call his boyfriend on me?" It had been a random slur pulled out of thin air, and Stetler had no idea how deep a nerve he'd just struck. It didn't take him long to figure out as Horatio's hand snapped out, grabbing Stetler by the collar and bodily hauling him out of the room.

It was instantly quiet, and Tim stared at the suddenly empty doorway. "You don't wanna mess with my boyfriend," he mumbled under his breath. He hadn't realized he'd said it aloud until he noticed Eric flinch out of the corner of his eye.

"You mean your girlfriend, right?" Eric grinned.

Oh, why the hell not? "No, I mean my boyfriend," Speed corrected him calmly.

Silence.  
Complete, utter silence.

"You're gay?" the Cuban finally whispered. Eric's face had changed, the complete opposite of the grin of mere seconds ago. His eyes were filled with anger and disgust, and what hit Tim the hardest was that those eyes were aimed at _him_.

Tim was suddenly glad that Horatio had talked him out of trying to get Delko to have a one-night stand with him. While Horatio may not follow the Catholic religion to the letter, Eric did, and sodomy was considered a mortal sin.

"How could you?" Eric's voice broke through his thoughts, the tone sounding as though Tim had given him a deep and personal insult.

"Because it's just how I am. Always have been." Suddenly Tim was angry. He'd just been fired—hell, he'd been _shot at_—and now he didn't even have a good hand anymore, and Delko was grievously wounded because his best friend didn't like girls? "I'm surprised you didn't pick up on it sooner, since I never called back any of those girls you tried to set me up with."

"That was just a front, then."

"Yeah, well, I tried, okay? Didn't want to hurt them, and I didn't want to hurt my best friend."

_"BEST FRIEND?!"_ Eric jumped to his feet as though he'd just been told that Speed had a rare, incurable, and highly contagious disease. "How can you be my best friend? You're gay!"

"Eric, don't do this," Calleigh started, but Eric cut her off.

"No! It's wrong, and it's disgusting!" The tall Cuban stared at his ex-friend like an insect on a microscope slide. "You know, I'm glad they're firing your ass. Your big, loose, sodomized ass."

_"ERIC!"_ Alexx's outburst cut him short. "Would you leave Timmy alone? The poor boy's been _shot_, for God's sake!"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'll leave him alone. Never have to worry about me bugging him ever again." The smoldering eyes burned into the wounded man. Then he turned, leaving the room without another word.

Tim was starting to hate these sudden, awkward silences.

Calleigh let out a breath she hadn't even realized she was holding. Speed blinked rapidly, staring at nothing in particular. Alexx _was_ crying, tears of injustice. None said anything, and really, what was there to say?

The only response to Eric's leaving was that suddenly Alexx and Calleigh were both trying to hold Speed's left hand and squeeze it reassuringly, and that was a bit hard to do: he only had one left hand, after all.

The effect was comical, and abruptly Speed burst out laughing. "Wanna flip a coin?" he gasped, the laughter suddenly reminding him of the hole in his shoulder. Alexx took a quick glance at her baby's monitors, decided that the display was working perfectly and the patient was still relatively healthy, and joined in the laughter. Calleigh wasn't far behind.

Alexx gave a mock sigh. "No wonder Shelly never talked about you after that one date I set you up with."

"And no wonder that girl at Miami Power hates you," Calleigh dug in.

"Leave me alone, you harpies," Tim moaned good-naturedly, freeing his hand so he could bury his face in it. The women laughed. Eric's words had hurt him more than he cared to admit, but at the same time there was a huge feeling of relief, knowing that Alexx and Calleigh didn't care about his preferences.

"So are you really seeing anybody?" Calleigh couldn't resist, planting her elbows on Tim's bed and resting her chin on threaded fingers.

Tim sighed. "Yeah, I am, actually."

Alexx's brow furrowed. "Then why move in with Horatio? Why not move in with your boyfriend?"

Tim thought hard. He didn't have to think long.

"He _is_ moving in with his boyfriend," came the voice from the doorway, and the two women whirled in shock. Horatio stood there, leaning against the doorframe, watching.

He was kind enough to give them time to process that statement as he looked Tim over. His secret would be safe with Alexx and Calleigh, and he was tired of hiding. In front of these two women, at least, he didn't have to hide his steamy gazes like the one he was giving Tim now, and Tim swallowed nervously. The last time Horatio had looked at him like that, Speed had been fixing his Ducati in Horatio's garage. H had put the door down, bent Speed over the bike, and fucked him until the younger man couldn't feel his legs.

Well, if H wasn't going to hide it, then Speed wasn't either, and Speed wanted Horatio's touch now more than ever. He held out his hand towards his lover, who stepped to the bed, grasping the hand and threading their fingers together.

Neither woman said anything for a long moment, until Calleigh quietly spoke up. "My lips are sealed."

"Doctor-patient privilege," Alexx seconded.

Horatio looked at them kindly. "Thank you."

Speed echoed him, adding, "I'd hate for Eric to hate you, too, H."

Horatio sighed heavily, turning to sit on the bed. "I heard the whole thing. As much as I want to pursue this and set him straight, pardon the pun, you're right. Best to just leave him alone, give him some space."

"He's not going to let this go, Horatio," Alexx said mournfully. "And he's a bright boy. He may put two and two together, and then you're in trouble."

Unexpectedly Tim snickered, and Horatio and Alexx looked at him like he'd sprouted wings. Tim wasn't looking at them, though; he was smiling at Calleigh, who was smiling right back. "Calleigh, the bright side, please?"

"My pleasure," she drawled, and turned to the other two. "Tim doesn't work for you anymore, Horatio, remember? That means that it's no longer a problem for you two to be seeing each other."

Horatio snorted and shook his head. "As much as that thought brightens me, Calleigh, you should know that we've been seeing each other for a while… and gays are not widely accepted, even in Miami. Especially those with badges."

Alexx couldn't help herself. "So, Horatio," she said carefully, "are you… oh, I hate that word, but are you gay too?"

Horatio gave a quick bark of laughter, easing her nerves. "No, I walk on both sides of the street." He flipped her a lewd little smile, and she cackled and tossed a light punch to his shoulder.

"So in other words, he's a horndog," Tim chipped in, and Horatio whirled to pinch the man's good arm, and he yelped.

"I like _people_. Those people just happen to be one gender or another."

"Interesting way to put it," Calleigh remarked with her usual perky smile. "Now, I want details." The two men froze, blinked, stuck in the classic deer-in-the-headlights look. "Not like that," she amended quickly. "How long have you two been seeing each other?"

The redhead glanced at Speed before answering. "Roughly seven months," he admitted, and the women blinked.

"And you hid it for this long?" Alexx couldn't believe it. "You two are _good_."

Tim freed his hand so he could scratch his neck. "You… really don't care? That me and H are…"

Calleigh waved it off. "A little surprised, maybe, but hey. I haven't seen any problems with the way you've handled yourselves at work, so I really don't see the harm in it."

"Even though it violates protocol?" Horatio couldn't stop himself.

Calleigh's blonde head tilted, considering the question. "The way I see it, most rules are there for a reason, but there's always a couple that can stand to be a bit more flexible."

Alexx was quiet, thinking, before reaching out a finger to tap Horatio on the knee. She snickered as she said, "And Timmy told me he was going to your house because he was teaching you how to cook."

Horatio turned to his lover, whose eyes were suddenly engrossed in his IV. "I thought you liked my steak." He made his voice quiver with mock hurt, and Tim looked up at him.

"I like your steak," he stated with his usual calm sincerity. "I just don't like how it goes 'moo' every time I cut into it." Alexx threw back her head and laughed.

A shadow fell across the doorway. "Good to see you've still got your sense of humor," drawled a familiar gruff voice. Detective Frank Tripp lumbered into the room, tapping Speed's foot with his hand and failing to notice how close Horatio was sitting to the patient. "How you feeling, slugger?"

"Like I just got shot," Speed replied honestly, and Tripp snorted.

"Just saw the doc in the hallway," the bulldog detective informed them, and suddenly he had their attention. "He says you can go home in about two weeks. Shoulder's staying in a cast for at least three months, though."

Tim looked glum at that.

"Frank," Horatio spoke up. "I was wondering if you would help me with something."

"Sure, what's up?"

Horatio thought carefully before answering. "I need you to do Speed a favor."

TWO WEEKS LATER

"There. All done." Horatio stood with his hands on his hips, surveying his living room. Stacked neatly in what had previously been a rather empty corner was a cluster of cardboard boxes, large Rubbermaid storage containers, and a few suitcases. Every bit of it was Tim's, from his now-empty apartment. All of Tim's large furniture was out in Horatio's garage, for now. Noticing some movement out the window, he amended, "Hold that thought."

"Here's the last one," Frank Tripp called as he hauled in the last cardboard box, carefully tossing it with the rest. It was just books, anyway, and he ignored the collective twitch from the surrounding CSIs. "Now we're done." He stood back, unconsciously copying Horatio with his hands on his hips, no tie, sleeves rolled up and jacket nowhere to be found.

"Great! Let's eat!" Calleigh stepped into the living room from the kitchen, carrying a variety tray like the kind you get from large sandwich shops. Behind her, a sullen Eric was packing a similar platter. He hadn't wanted to come, but his mother had made him. He couldn't bear to tell her why he suddenly had no best friend any more. Couldn't stomach the thought of telling her that he'd brought a homosexual into her house. Horatio was Catholic, yet he seemed to have no problem with it, and that bothered Eric.

"Who wants what to drink?" Alexx called from the kitchen. "Timmy, you move from that chair again and I'm tying you to it!"

Tim leaned back in his chair and scowled. He'd wanted to help—it was his stuff, after all—but it had taken a long talk from Horatio just for Alexx to let Tim direct the packing of the boxes. Tim's right shoulder was encased with a contraption of steel and plastic that looked like an armored shoulder pad from one of those Japanese cartoons. His forearm was in a sling across his midsection, of course, but the brace actually extended up the side of his neck and down to almost his elbow, holding his upper arm completely rigid. It had to be, if there was the slightest chance of his joint healing properly.

His left hand still worked fine, but that didn't make nearly as much difference as Tim would've liked: he was right-handed. Even if the surgery was a success, it would take a miracle to get 80% efficiency back in his arm, and in the meantime he'd have to learn how to do things with his left hand. The first time he'd been allowed to eat with a fork after the surgery, the clumsiness and frustration had nearly brought him to tears.

Something cold and wet smacked into his cheek, and he jumped, realizing it was Horatio with a soda—tab popped open, of course, which irritated him more than gratified him. He wasn't _completely_ helpless, but he said "Thanks" anyway.

"That's something I'm going to have to try sometime," H said in a low murmur, using the soda as an excuse to lean close to the younger man.

"What's that?" Speed asked casually, eyes darkening with the redhead's proximity.

"Tying you to the chair."

Speed blinked, mouth half-open, as Horatio chuckled and stepped to the side, allowing the food to travel past him.

"Here ya go, Speed!" Calleigh called cheerfully, the overlarge platter balanced expertly on one hand like an upscale waitress. "Whatcha want on your sandwich?"

Tim pointed at various things, allowing Calleigh to spread the condiments on the bread. That was something else he'd need to practice, but he wasn't up to making a fool of himself right now. "Thanks, Calleigh," he said quietly.

"For what?"

Tim gave a rueful grin. "Treating me like I'm not completely helpless."

"Oh, it's no problem," Calleigh waved it off. As if to prove it, she handed him a small bag of potato chips. Unopened. The 'invalid' was up to the challenge, though, grabbing one corner and lifting the bag to his teeth.

"Timmy!" Alexx's stern warning knifed through the little gathering, and all eyes were suddenly on him.

"Alexx, it's either my bad arm or my teeth. Pick which one I'm gonna ruin," Tim grumbled loud enough for her to hear.

"I'd prefer for you to not ruin the upholstery," Horatio said casually, and chuckles rose from the group as they went back to the eating and gabbing. He ducked down again, to whisper in Tim's ear. "Which bedroom do you want? I know you'll be sleeping with me, but I also know that they'll expect to help you take all your clothes out."

Tim favored him with a dry look, whispering back. "If I'll be sleeping with you, then why does it matter?"

"Because Eric volunteered to help you unpack the things for your room." Tim's good humor faded, and Horatio noticed. "Want me to be in there to help?"

Tim shook his head. "Nah, I think I can handle it."

"Well, you'd better not handle much of anything. Alexx will be keeping an eye on you, you know," Horatio couldn't resist digging in, and Tim sighed.

"I think she's a great person, H, and I'm glad she's taken such a shine to me, but the damn woman is determined to put me in a wheelchair. My arm's busted, but I can still walk!" He fumed around his large bite of sandwich.

"You know, most people would enjoy just sitting there and having someone else do all the work for them," Horatio remarked, and Speed decided that he'd like to be incredibly immature for a moment and stick his tongue out at the redhead, and did.

Everyone finished their food, and people began going for boxes, asking Tim and Horatio where to put this one or that one. Frank figured he'd be safe setting up the bookshelves, and Calleigh busied herself with hooking up Speed's laptop and setting it on the desk next to Horatio's. When that was done, she found Tim's CDs and began sorting them neatly by alphabetical order next to Horatio's rather under-used entertainment center. Alexx manned the kitchen, sorting Tim's pots and pans and assorted utensils. Horatio and Eric made several trips to the garage, bringing up some furniture.

Things were just winding down when beepers went off. Everyone except Tim glanced at their belts, looked at each other, and sighed. "Calleigh, you mind running with this one?" Horatio asked ruefully.

She beamed at him. "No problem, I know you need to get Tim all settled in."

Horatio nodded his thanks before raising his voice. "Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to thank you for your help in getting Speedle moved in. Duty calls, however. I'm going to sit this one out, get some more unpacking done."

"Yeah, thanks everybody," Speed spoke up, giving a little wave. Various replies of "you're welcome" and "no problem" and "get well soon" bounced back to him, and the house began to empty again.

Horatio stood at the door, watching them leave, Alexx taking a few extra seconds to impart some stern warnings to her patient before joining the little entourage. When they were gone, Horatio closed the door, heading back into the living room and noticing that Speed was blushing furiously. "What'd she say?" the redhead inquired casually.

Tim locked his eyes fixedly on the floor. "She said that she didn't care how often we did it, but that we're to have no rough sex until my follow-up. And if anything you do to me aggravates my shoulder in any way, she's gonna break yours."

Horatio blinked, glancing out the window as the last of the cars pulled away. Then he put his hands on his hips and gave a short bark of laughter. "I hate to disappoint you, Speed, but that's very good advice. Your shoulder is fine powder as it is."

Tim's brown eyes were wide with disbelief. "You mean you're really going to leave me high and dry?"

Horatio turned to face the younger man fully, hands moving to part the buttons on the front of his shirt. "Of course not. I'm simply going to take my own sweet time before I make you scream."

Speed swallowed hard, pupils dilating at the look Horatio was sending his way as the shirt was finally unbuttoned. The redhead shrugged it off, snatching it before it hit the floor and tossing it in the general direction of the couch, smoldering blue eyes never leaving Speed's. He was forced to break the gaze as he yanked his undershirt over his head, sending it after his dress shirt and seeing Tim sitting there, staring at him with such a look of lust that Horatio was amazed that the room wasn't igniting.

"H?" Speed's voice was a faint whisper, throat clogged with arousal.

"Yes?" The redhead stalked closer.

"Can you help me with my shirt?" Tim tugged at the collar of his Lynard Skynard shirt, which Horatio had brought fresh from his laundry just for the occasion of bringing the brunette home.

Horatio gave a dark chuckle as he closed the distance to his lover's side, capturing the stubbled mouth in a soul-searing kiss. "I can do more than that," he rumbled as they broke apart, lips traveling across the sandpaper jawline and down the left side of Speed's neck, finding a tasty spot at the juncture of neck and shoulder, and Tim squeaked.

"H," he whined, breath hitching as Horatio sucked gently on the skin, marking him.

"Hmm?"

"Can we go to bed now?" He heard the frustration and arousal in Speed's voice, and the unfortunate undercurrent of exhaustion. For the past two weeks, he'd been laying in a hospital bed, after all.

Horatio decided that the skin was sufficiently bruised and pulled back to admire his handiwork. Satisfied, he knelt and took Speed's good hand in his own, gazes meeting once again. "Speed, we can do whatever you want. You're home now."

Speed swallowed, eyes suddenly glittering. "Take me to bed, H. Please."

Horatio half-stood so he could plant a soft kiss on his younger lover. "Of course."

It was an exercise in emotionless faces as Horatio was given a crash course on how to get Tim's arm in and out of a shirt. Specifically, Tim sat on the edge of the bed, and then Horatio had to find all the snaps and straps to remove the brace, then very carefully remove the sling, and _VERY_ carefully straighten the arm but move the shoulder as little as possible while Tim shrugged out of the shirt as best he could. He didn't show it, but Horatio saw it anyway, the pain shooting through his lover's body, the wrong kind of tears that stung the brown eyes.

"That settles it," the redhead growled as Tim's upper half was completely bare for the first time in two weeks. "You are not wearing a shirt until the doctor says that brace can come off. I don't care," he held up a hand to stop Speed's protests. "I don't want you to have to go through that and to aggravate your injury two or three times a day."

Tim was silent as Horatio carefully reattached the medical restraints.

"You okay, Speed?" The redhead asked, concerned.

Speed looked up at him. "That means that you get a wide-open shot at my nipples every time you see me."

Horatio smiled. "Everybody wins. And now, you," and he laid a gentle hand on the younger man's good shoulder, standing close until he was nearly between his lover's legs, "are going to lay down."

Tim's eyes got big and pouty. "But, H—"

"No buts," Horatio said firmly, hand urging Tim to scoot backward and finally lean back against the pillows that Horatio had piled against the headboard beforehand. "I told you, everybody wins." With that, he knelt between Speed's denim-clad legs and brought his lips back to their former conquest on the unshaven neck, darkening the skin some more.

Tim squirmed carefully under the touch, his good hand lifting to run fingers through the red hair. "God, H, I missed you," he sighed. Horatio didn't respond, as he was too busy widening his target, the entire dip between Speed's left shoulder and that side of his neck slowly becoming one big love mark. Horatio smiled into the skin as a low moan vibrated through the skin against his lips as he lifted one hand to Speed's chest, finding and tweaking a nipple.

After a while, Speed was shifting and panting with increasing urgency. "H, you trying to kill me?" he hissed, his hand sliding up and down the pale back in mindless circles.

Horatio broke contact, looking up, afraid he'd some how hurt his lover. Instead, Speed's hand moved down to between his own legs, fumbling with his belt. "I haven't gotten off since before I got shot," Tim pouted. As if to prove it, he helped Horatio fiddle with his pants until they and his boxers were low enough that Horatio could see the frustration physically manifesting itself beneath the fine skin of the younger man's scrotum.

"I had one myself, just before I left to pick you up from the hospital." Horatio's voice was low and throaty, the tone that just made Speed's toes curl. "Just thinking about you living here, sleeping in my bed… waking up to do this." He leaned down, flicking his tongue out to lick Speed's straining cockhead, and Speed gasped.

"H, please," the dark-haired man whined. "Ohhhhh, please…"

"My pleasure," Horatio growled with another lick. "I'm going to suck. You. Dry." With that, he plunged down, and Speed nearly squealed, hips bucking. Horatio wanted desperately to make the younger man come, to relieve his suffering; at the same time, he wanted it to last forever, their first lovemaking with Speed officially living here. Then he thought, _why not both?_ As frustrated as Tim was, he wouldn't last long under Horatio's expert touch.

And he was right; within the span of a few minutes, Speed grabbed Horatio's shoulder hard as he gave a choked cry, body stiffening and hips bucking deep into Horatio's mouth as he came hard, Horatio swallowing every drop. When Tim finally sagged back into the pillows, Horatio lifted his head and licked his lips.

"Don't you dare go to sleep," Horatio growled, knowing his lover's tendency to do just that after coming. Tim only gave a tired grin, his arm stretching out and inviting the redhead up for a snuggle. Horatio complied, stretching himself out on Tim's left side and draping an arm across the somewhat hairy belly, Tim's arm wrapping around his shoulders. "I've missed you so much, Speed," Horatio whispered softly.

"Same here," Speed murmured back, putting a kiss to the red hair that was laying on the good half of his chest.

Horatio basked in the embrace, finding comfort in the heart beating steadily underneath his ear. Eventually his proximity to his lover became too much, and he couldn't resist lifting his head to move it a few inches, giving the nearby nipple a lick, and Tim gave a sleepy moan. "Think you could go for another one?" Horatio inquired as he teased the bud with his lips, and Tim shifted, his hand finding Horatio's head.

"I could go for anything right about now," Speed whispered, his hand toying with the soft copper locks.

"Good," Horatio muttered, teasing the nub with his teeth, and Tim jumped a little, his teeth chattering. It was one of Speed's little quirks, that every time he felt teeth or fingernails on his nipples, his teeth chattered. Tim was slightly embarrassed by it, but Horatio loved the little oddity, and he carefully gnawed on the tiny little bundle of nerves, his lover's teeth clacking.

"H," Tim finally managed to stutter when the redhead let up. "Do you mind?"

"Mind what?" Horatio asked innocently. He lifted his head to stare straight at his lover, extending his tongue to gently tease the little pebble, and Speed groaned at the image.

"I need you," the dark-haired man whimpered. "Hard."

"Don't forget about what Alexx said," Horatio reminded him as he gave a reproachful nip, sending Tim's jaw rattling again.

"Dammit, H, would you just fuck me already?"

Horatio smiled broadly into his little toy. "I thought you'd never ask," he rumbled as his hand slid down Tim's belly, wrapping around the already stiffening cock he found there. "My my, you are desperate, aren't you?"

"Fuck you," Speed growled half-heartedly, rocking his hips into Horatio's hand.

"Maybe tomorrow night," Horatio shot back, attacking the nipple again, and Speed hissed. It wasn't often that Speed topped him, but every now and then Horatio was glad to let someone else be in control… and so far, Speed was the first man in a very long time that Horatio trusted enough to do that.

The redhead finally released Speed's chest, lips teasing and licking and sucking a hot trail down the dark curls on the younger man's belly until he found the thick nest of hair, and below it, Tim's throbbing member. Horatio pumped it a few times with his hand as he kissed his way around it, finding Tim's balls and sucking first one, then the other, into his mouth. Tim made a low humming noise as his hand found Horatio's hair again, hips rocking absently as Horatio finally released the warm globes and licked a broad streak up the pulsing length before wrapping his lips around it.

"Jesus, H, that feels great," Tim panted, face to the ceiling as Horatio teased, licked, and sucked his cock. "H, please… please fuck me."

Horatio rose, abandoning his plaything. "Lay on your left side," he ordered calmly, and Tim whined from the loss but obeyed nonetheless. The redhead took the time to finally remove his own pants and boxers, rummaging around in the nightstand for a condom and some lube. Carefully he moved over his prostrate lover, settling himself behind him and pressing his lightly haired chest into the warm back. He had to lean his hips back in order to tease Tim's entrance with his finger, and Tim moaned.

"God, H, it's been way too long," Tim sighed as Horatio uncapped the lube and slicked up his hand, his finger finding the tight ring of muscle again. He jumped and moaned as the digit invaded him, twisting and squirming before locating the prostate, and Speed gave a howl as loud as he normally did when he came. "Way too fucking long," he panted.

"No argument here," Horatio agreed, wishing that the brace wasn't there so he could chew on his lover's neck. He settled for stretching his neck out to nibble on Speed's sensitive ears as he slipped a second finger in, stretching and scissoring to pull open the muscle, preparing him. "God, Speed… you're so tight," the redhead breathed into dark-haired man's ear, gnawing carefully on the cartilage shell as Tim twitched his hips, pushing back against Horatio's hand, welcoming him, and Horatio slipped in a third finger.

"H?"

"Hmm?" Horatio kept nibbling, kept playing with Speed's prostate, reveling in the sounds he hadn't heard for so long.

Speed jerked his head carefully away from Horatio's evil mouth. "Dammit, Horatio Caine, I want you in my ass _right the fuck now!"_

"Sir, yes sir," Horatio growled, pulling his fingers out and grabbing the condom and lube. Tim whimpered at the loss, going quiet when he felt the tip of Horatio's cock against his entrance. "Speed?" he whispered softly, controlling himself.

"Y-yeah?" Tim was actually trembling with anticipation.

Horatio rose up and over just enough to lay a kiss on his lover's lips, savoring the flavor before settling back down, slowly pushing himself through that tight ring of muscle. "Welcome home, Speed," he hissed as he slid inside.

Speed pressed his back against his lover's sparsely haired chest, head lolling and eyes rolling back as Horatio entered him. "Good to be—oh, _God_, H! Good to be home," he moaned, raising his leg slightly for a better angle. "More, H. Gimme more."

"Jesus, Speed, you're… you're tight, so fucking tight," Horatio gasped, grasping the leg and rocking his hips.

"Two weeks of celibacy will do that to you," Speed replied dryly, arching his back for a slightly better angle, and Horatio growled as he slid all the way to the hilt.

Horatio tried to set a slow pace, but Speed was right: two weeks was a long time, and the redhead found that he couldn't slow down. Instead he sped up, hips bucking faster and faster, and soon Tim was moaning with every thrust. "H, please," the dark-haired man whined as Horatio clutched his lover's hip, pulling them together and pushing them apart as the sweating flesh pounded together.

Horatio moved, scooting his lower half just a bit closer to his lover, hips slamming into that tight heat as the redhead reached around, wrapping a hand around Speed's weeping cock and dragging his thumb over the head, and Speed howled. Horatio slid his upper half away, ducking his head and finding the sensitive skin of Speed's neck with his teeth, the part that wasn't covered by the medical 'armor,' and he bit down with little force, and Tim slammed himself back into his lover's pounding cock.

"Come for me, Speed," Horatio snarled against Speed's neck, and the dark-haired man stiffened, length pulsing in Horatio's hand before shooting the thick white fluid onto the bed. Horatio growled into his prize, his lover's muscle contractions gripping him so painfully tight, stroking him, milking him, and he gave a wordless howl through his teeth as he pounded himself into the incredible dark heat one last time, his own cock sputtering with release.

They lay there for a long time, panting, Horatio still buried to the hilt. Finally Horatio started to shrink and Speed started to itch, so reluctantly the redhead pulled out, and Speed moaned like he was losing a part of himself. Horatio leaned over for another kiss, which Speed returned gladly, before the redhead rose and headed to the bathroom to clean up. "You know, Speed," he began casually, "now that you're living here, maybe we can finally go clubbing again." He found the little packet of baby wipes, snorting at the dust on them as he peeled off his condom and headed back to the bedroom.

Tim rolled over enough to take a wipe with a nod of thanks. "You mean, to that one place?" He lay mostly on his left shoulder, running the wipe along his privates.

"The 'place' is called Deviate, Speed, and why would you be nervous? I thought you and Pamela were friends." Horatio started to wipe the cum off Speed's belly, then stopped and bent down to lick it, making his lover moan again. "You and the Mistress are still friends, aren't you?"

"Well," Speed hissed as the tongue teased the curls on his stomach, "I kinda haven't called her in two weeks."

When Horatio got the stomach clean, he knelt down next to the bed and ran a wipe over it, scrubbing furiously at a few spots. "You're excused. I called her a couple of days after the shooting, during one of the few times I came home. She wanted to come and see you but I told her it wouldn't be a good idea."

"Why not? Because she's a Dominatrix, I'm gay, and you and her are two of the best Doms in Miami?"

"Something like that." Horatio tilted his head and sighed, looking at his lover. "I just didn't want to raise any more questions. You've had enough thrown out into the open as it is."

Tim accepted the logic of that. "Well, thank God I was laying on my back most of the time. Alexx saw those scars, she'd _never_ leave me alone."

"And what did the nurse say about them? During your sponge baths, I mean?" Horatio blinked innocently at the wounded man, who shuddered.

"Don't remind me. Letting a woman that close to my junk is just… rrgh." He shook his head as though to dispel the memory. "And I just flat-out told her, they're scars from my boyfriend tying me up and thrashing me with a bullwhip, and she didn't say a damn thing after that. And they're bound by the doctor-patient confidentiality clause."

Horatio's finger guided Speed to roll a bit more onto his stomach but not completely, the redhead standing to peer at his lover's back. "Not too much scarring there, Speed. Then again, you're more for the straps than the whip." He ran a light finger over a few of them before nudging Speed to roll back over.

"I miss it, H. I wanna go visit Pam again as soon as you'll let me."

"I know, I know," Horatio soothed. "We'll see what the doctor says and how you're progressing, first."

Tim grunted and laid his good arm over his stomach in a poor imitation of crossing his arms, face looking like a child who'd just been told to eat his peas before he could have dessert. Horatio couldn't help a laugh at the sight, tossing the wipes in a small trash can beneath the nightstand and crawling onto the bed so he was straddling his younger lover. "You know, that face does nothing to change my mind."

Speed gave him a silly grin. "I know. But it got you over here, didn't it?"

Horatio gave a quick bark of laughter as he settled back to his spot on Tim's good side, the dark-haired man draping his left arm over the redhead's shoulders again. "Smartass," Horatio muttered, giving the nearby nipple a quick toothing, and Tim's jaw went clacking again.

"Better a smartass than a dumbass," Speed countered, his hand tickling the finer hairs on the back of Horatio's neck, and the older man squirmed.

"Truce?"

"Truce."

They sealed the deal with a kiss, light and sweet, and Horatio stood to turn off all the lights. "Welcome home, Speed," he murmured again once he'd settled back down.

Tim's arm gripped him tightly. "Good night, H."

FOUR MONTHS AFTER SHOOTING

Tim Speedle was bored.

Horatio was at work, as usual. And, also as usual, Tim was at home, contemplating yet another day of being bored out of his mind. There was no laundry to be folded, no dishes to wash, and he couldn't ride his Ducati. It was no fun cooking for just one person, and Speed still had problems doing regular household chores with just his left hand, anyhow. He sent a glare at his still-useless right arm, still encased in that damn brace. Glaring at it wasn't going to do him any good, he knew, but it made him feel a bit better.

"Just so you know, I'm still mad at you," he told the arm matter-of-factly. He got no reply, which wasn't surprising, and sighed. "It never ceases to amaze me," he confided in the ceiling, "how there can be so many channels on TV and still have absolutely nothing to watch."

Out of sheer boredom, he wandered to the living room and sat on the couch, flicking on the TV. Mindlessly he scrolled through the channels, passing through the sappy midday melodramas, infomercials for bathroom cleaners and mail-order medical supplies, and the replays of old movies that nobody had really cared about in the first place. Sports held no interest for him, despite all the muscular men in tight uniforms. Even the science channels let him down, with shows he'd already seen a dozen times. Cop shows were out; even if he could get into one, all the inconsistencies and mishandling of evidence just bothered him.

Idly he found Animal Planet and found an episode that seemed mildly interesting: alligator wrestling in the suburbs of Florida. God knows he'd seen enough of it firsthand, but it was still amusing to watch little old ladies screech and holler while their macho sons and husbands tried to "assist" Animal Control. One dumbshit almost lost a hand, which made Speed snort. How in the hell did this guy think that a cheap little wooden baseball bat would be sturdy enough to stop a gator bite? A full-grown alligator, of the right size and species, could crush rocks with its teeth if it so desired.

Speed's cynical, intelligent, and very bored mind was indulging in a fantasy about setting alligators loose in the Miami-Dade Jail—and maybe sneaking one or two onto the set of a particularly boring soap opera—when he was interrupted by the ringing of the phone.

He hopped up and headed toward the nearest handset, on the end table next to Horatio's favorite chair. Snatching it up, he cradled it to his ear. "Caine residence."

"Speed! Hey, it's Danny Messer, from New York. How ya been, pal?"

Speed brightened; he liked Danny. He'd first met the New Yorker, over the phone, when Horatio had flown to the Big City because of a court date from one of his old cases. During the course of his stay, Horatio had learned that Danny was sleeping with Mac Taylor but the two were having relationship problems. In true Caine style, Horatio had none-too-gently forced Mac to open his eyes. In the meantime, Speed and Danny had chatted over the phone and had become fast friends.

"Been all right, Danny. Bored, but all right."

Danny chuckled. "I hear that. Hey, your arm still busted?"

Speed sighed. "Yeah. I'm still a damn cripple. Physical therapy won't start for another couple of weeks."

"That sucks." Danny paused. "Hey, wanna do me a favor?"

Other people may have been offended, but directness was just as much a part of Danny as quiet cynicism was of Speed. "What's up?"

"Well, Mac's got a coupl'a days off, and he's wantin' to fly down there ta see Horatio."

"Oh, really."

"Yeah. You don't mind, do ya?"

"No, of course not. But why call me? Why not just ask H directly?"

Danny sighed; it sounded like he was settling into a chair or something. "Well, Mac's the kinda guy that don't like to impose, ya know? He wasn't sure if H wanted to do anything, or if he'd even have the time. I hear, your guy works more than mine does."

Speed snorted. "Yeah, H is a workaholic if there ever was one."

"So, I just wanted to run it by ya, see if it's aright. Mac don't wanna be rude, eh?"

"Oh please, by all means. Impose on the bored, crippled guy. I've got nothing better to do, and I think H'd like the visit."

Danny cackled. "Sounds good ta me, I'll let 'im know. I figure Mac'll hop a plane tomarra morning, be there by the afternoon. Sound good?"

"Works for me. I'll pick him up from the airport, if you'll call me later with the time."

"Fantastic. Thanks, pal."

They said their goodbyes and hung up. Speed glanced back at the TV, his interest lost. Instead, his mind was occupied with thoughts of Horatio, and Mac flying down to see the redhead, and H's story of just what he'd done to the Marine. Speed grinned at the thought.

Suddenly the light bulb flashed in his head, and Speed was no longer bored. He had plans to make.

"Hey, you're Mac? I'm Tim Speedle." The young man held out his left hand, curled downward to shake Mac's right. "Sorry, my right hand doesn't work as well as it used to."

"I've heard a lot about you, Speedle, but I didn't hear very much about this." Mac eyed the right arm, or at least what he could see of it. Speed wore a button-up shirt, but only his left half was dressed properly. On his right side, the sleeve was empty and the cuff actually safety-pinned to the shoulder. The shirt was only buttoned on the bottom half, with the top open enough that his right hand could hang casually out, the edges of a medical sling visible around the wrist. Tim's chest was hairy without being obscenely so, and Mac's eyes noticed a bit of molded white plastic covering most of the right pectoral.

"Call me Speed, or Tim, it doesn't really matter. And this is actually a medical brace to make sure I don't move my arm. I've got an artificial shoulder now, but I'm supposed to keep this sling on for another two weeks, and then I've got all kinds of physical therapy to go through." Speed patted his own shoulder, thumb idly ghosting over one spot. "I took a bullet, right here. Blew the joint clean apart. Guy couldn't have busted me up worse if he'd been point blank, hitting me right there."

"Does it still hurt?" Mac asked quietly. He'd known pain before, but nothing that ever came close to this.

Tim gave a slight shake of his head. "Only when a bad weather system moves in, or I move it too much. Worst part of it is, I was born right-handed."

Mac grimaced in sympathy. "Well, I'll try not to ask you for too much."

Tim tilted his head. "Hey, you're the guest. Now c'mon, car's this way."

It had stunned Tim, once wounded, to learn that Horatio owned a car. Logically he'd known that Horatio drove to and from work every day, that he went places off the clock, and that he didn't own his department-issue Hummer, but it had royally floored him to have Horatio casually loan him his car while he was wounded… automatic transmission, of course.

"Nice ride," Mac said appreciatively as Tim pushed the button on the keychain that popped the trunk.

"It's H's, but thanks. He's loaning it to me because I can drive it one-handed."

"Nice of him," Mac said idly as they climbed in. Tim had obviously practiced inserting the key and starting the car with his left hand, as well as actually driving it. Mac couldn't help grinding his teeth whenever Speed had to turn the wheel all the way around to back out of the parking space, and Tim pretended not to notice the Marine's foot twitching, as though dying to smash down on an invisible brake pedal.

"You always drive, don't you?" Tim asked casually.

Mac looked at him, dropped his head, and gave a little laugh. "That bad, huh?"

"Well, I can't say I blame you. One-handed driver, and all that. And it's not even my dominant hand." Tim was a bit more agile than Mac had given him credit for, the hand dancing across the wheel to shift the gears back to 'drive' before coming back to the 10 o'clock position, fully rotating the wheel again in order to straighten the vehicle and get it moving.

"So did you have the surgery recently?" Mac asked, as much to make conversation as out of innate curiosity.

"Well, I got shot about four months ago, but the shoulder never regained full usage, and then I broke it again about a month and a half ago and _please_ don't ask how. It hurt like a bitch, so H talked me into getting the joint replaced. So now I gotta go _back_ to being one-handed." He shook his head. "I swear, I write better with my left hand now than I did when my right first got out of that brace."

Mac didn't seem to mind that the windows were down, for which Tim was glad. Tim drove with the windows down whenever possible, missing the feel of the wind in his hair and the sun on his face from riding his Ducati. Sadly, it was kinda hard to ride a motorcycle one-handed, as he'd learned the very hard way roughly six weeks ago.

Mac spoke again. "So if it's a new joint, why do you have to wait so long before the therapy?"

"Letting all the bone settle in around the plates and the screws, all the tendons grow where they're supposed to, that kinda thing. Make sure everything looks right before they try moving it around a lot."

Mac twitched a smile. "You set off metal detectors?"

Speed answered him with a grin. "Why do you think I met you out here instead of in the terminal? I can't flash a badge and get by the rent-a-cops anymore." They paused at a stoplight, and Speed took the time to slide on a stylish-looking pair of yellow sunglasses.

Mac snorted and allowed himself to fall silent and take in the scenery. "So, what have you and Horatio got planned for me?"

"Why, what _ever_ could you mean by that?"

Mac shot a look at the younger man who was carefully watching the road, and gave a short laugh. "I think I know Horatio well enough to expect that you two have something planned for me, and I like to be prepared."

"Well…"

"Come on, Tim."

Speed let the moment build for a moment, then sighed. "Sadly, nothing planned for _you_."

Mac caught the enunciation. "Something planned for someone else? Horatio, perhaps?"

"Maybe." Tim's face was carefully neutral behind his easy-to-see-through shades, but Mac wasn't so easily fooled. Tim knew it, too. "Hey Mac, I was wondering… think you could help me with a little project I've been planning?"

Mac considered carefully. "Like what?"

Speed paused at another stoplight and turned to Mac, leering outright. "I'm topping H tonight. I've got plans, but I can't really pull them off one-handed."

On the one hand, this sounded interesting to Mac. On the other hand, he couldn't help but wonder what he was getting himself into. "What kind of help would you need?"

Speed gave a one-shoulder shrug as he turned back to the road, and the light turned green after a few seconds. "Well, not really _help_, I guess. I just thought you'd like to get back at him for what he did to you in New York."

Mac blinked. Tim shot a glance at him and saw not a passenger but a co-conspirator. "I'm listening."

Mac's head was all but spinning as Speed pulled up to Horatio's house. What the redhead's lover had planned had made the Marine squirm in his seat and place serious effort in trying to think about shoes, tax forms, grouting showers, and little old ladies.

He had to hand it to Speed, though; the man had a deviously erotic mind. "You two make the perfect couple," Mac muttered as he climbed out of the car.

"How do you figure?" Speed pushed the button on the keychain that popped the trunk.

Mac retrieved his bag and closed the trunk again. He paused, locking eyes with the dark-haired man. "Besides nymphomania and insanity?"

Speed reared his head back, howling with laughter as they made their way up the driveway. Mac wondered aloud why they didn't put the car in the garage, and Speed answered that he still had some furniture in there, as well as what was left of his treasured motorcycle.

Mac furrowed his brow. "What do you mean, 'what's left of it'? What happened to it?"

Speed sighed and tapped his arm brace with his good hand. "I tried to ride it one day while Horatio was at work."

Mac clicked his tongue in sympathy. "No further questions, Your Honor." Speed snorted at that as he unlocked the door and showed Mac inside.

Speed lead the way around the house, showing Mac where the kitchen and living room were, the laundry room, and the guest bedroom and bathroom. The one-armed man stood in the doorway while Mac quickly and efficiently unpacked his bag. When that was done, Mac sat on the bed and looked at Speed. "So now what do we do while we're waiting for Horatio?"

Tim shrugged. "I'm sure we can think of something." There was a brief silence. "Think you can help me with my arm brace?"

"How do you mean?"

Tim gave a one-shoulder shrug. "I was gonna get in the shower. Kinda hard to get it off one-handed."

Mac gave a slow nod. "Horatio usually helps you out with this?"

"Yeah. See, thing is, I don't want to wait for him." Speed headed for the bathroom, detouring long enough to find a towel and sling it over his good shoulder, and Mac followed. The bathroom was somewhat larger than what Mac was used to, the tub especially so, with sliding doors rather than a curtain for the shower. Mac didn't ask the question, and Tim didn't answer as he hung the towel over the rack and slid open the shower doors—frosted glass panels—to bend and get the hot water running. He held his hand under the tub faucet, occasionally reaching up to turn the hot or cold knob until it was just right, and stood.

"I'll try not to take too long," Tim said as he worked his hand down the buttons on the front of his shirt. "Sometimes I just get lost, standing in here. Spray feels pretty damn good, especially on this shoulder. Good thing H has such a big water heater."

_He also has a bottle of water-based sexual lubricant among the shampoos and conditioners,_ Mac noted silently. Aloud, he simply said, "I've never found the point. In the Marines, any shower lasting longer than four minutes was considered excessive."

Tim tilted his head as he turned his back, allowing Mac to fiddle with the little straps. He removed it carefully, laying it to the side, and Tim couldn't hold back a snort of laughter at how pale his shoulder was—as if the rest of him were tanned, he thought with another snort. Mac asked, "You going to leave the sling on in the shower?"

Tim gave a one-shouldered shrug, more habit now than anything. "Nah. I was going to, but I've just got this urge to get completely and totally naked, you know? I'd like to spend at least a few minutes, every once in a while, wearing nothing but my own skin." He began to tug on the strap of his sling, pretending not to notice the way Mac's eyes had suddenly darkened and become a bit glassy, the Marine's jaw going just a bit slack. "I swear, some days I forget that I was born with two arms, and not an arm and a plastic nub."

His right arm hanging limply at his side, Speed massaged the bicep and the elbow joint, stiff from being held at a bend so much. When he'd worked a bit of the kink out, he started working one-handed on his own belt, and Mac stiffened and turned as if to leave when Speed's voice stopped him. "Stick around, would you?"

"Why?"

"Because I wanna keep talking to you." There was something in his tone that made Mac a little suspicious, but he ignored it, lowering the seat on the commode and sitting down. Tim didn't say another word as he dropped his pants and boxers, although Mac could've sworn he saw Speed wiggle his ass just a bit before disappearing into the steam. The shower door closed, and Tim's silhouette bent to pull the knob over the faucet. There was a momentary silence as the water was diverted to the overhead sprayer, and then came the familiar hiss of the spray and an appreciative growl from the warm body beneath it.

The conversation, if one could call it that, was little more than idle chitchat over the frosted glass of the sliding shower doors. Mac sat staring straight ahead for the most part; the thought of watching Tim shower seemed somehow wrong to him. From what he could tell from the little glances that he just couldn't help taking, Tim was doing a fine job of washing himself, even with uncapping the shampoos and liquid soaps and applying them properly to the navy blue loofa that hung from the showerhead.

And he would swear that Speedle was flirting with him. That confused Mac more than anything; he'd thought that H and Speed were getting along famously as a couple… until he remembered how casually Horatio had topped him, and the friendly kind of lust that the redhead had displayed—and acted on—towards Danny. Mac hadn't been privy to the discussion between Horatio and Danny about Tim and H's somewhat open relationship, but Danny had filled him in later.

So yes, Tim Speedle could very well be flirting with Mac Taylor. The unshaven man had also gone oddly quiet in the shower.

"Tim?"

"Y-yeah?" Something about the reply made Mac's head turn almost against his will. Through the translucent glass, he could see that Tim had his back completely turned to Mac; the injured man's good shoulder was against the shower wall, and his good hand was… not holding the loofa. It was between his legs. In the back.

_He's finger-fucking himself while he's talking to me. _

"Tim? You okay in there?"

There was a soft sigh, barely discernable over the hiss of the shower. "I'm fine. Why?"

"Nothing. You just went a little quiet on me." Through the glass, he could see the shape of Tim's body, and the hand that was slowly pumping fingers in and out. Mac bit his lip, finding that he wasn't surprised at the fact that he was getting hard. In fact, it would be difficult _not_ to.

"I'm fine," Speed repeated, and Mac saw the man's near-useless right arm twitching, trying to use the forearm without moving the shoulder, which was nigh impossible. _Poor guy can't even jerk himself while he's doing that,_ the Marine noted with a small twinge of sympathy.

"Anything I can do to help?" Mac asked calmly, ignoring the way the reserved and proprietary half of his brain suddenly started screaming at him. Speed was all but asking Mac to fuck him, and Mac found the invitation to be most agreeable. His cock certainly did, anyway, as Mac stroked himself through his pants. Speed's plans for Horatio came flashing back to him, and Mac could feel his libido roaring to life.

"Actually, there is." Speed's fingers removed themselves from their warm little cocoon as the man turned to place a palm on the glass. "Would you mind scrubbing my back?" Speed peered out at him from behind the sliding door, and Mac blinked. _The guy's hard as a rock._

"I'd get wet," Mac objected casually, sure that Speedle could see the Marine's hand giving himself a full-frontal massage through his pants.

"Then take your clothes off," Speed replied, just as casually.

Mac looked at him for a long moment, needing confirmation. "You're flirting with me, aren't you?"

Speed tossed out a lecherous grin. "See, who says you're not a great detective?"

To Mac's not-quite-surprise, his own hands were already working to remove his clothing. "You're sure Horatio won't mind?"

"I'm sure," Tim said, his voice turning petulant. "And besides, he got to experience you firsthand, and all I got was that dildo he made of you."

That halted the Marine in his erotic tracks, with one leg out of his pants. "He kept that?!"

Speed blinked at him. "He said that you said he could."

Mac thought about that one. "I never said he _couldn't_," he said slowly. They looked at each other, and Speed gave a soft snort. "All right, I'm coming," Mac grumbled good-naturedly, letting the rest of his clothes slide to the floor.

"I hope you're not. Not yet, anyway," Speed leered at him as he held the door open, and Mac stepped inside and slid the door closed behind him.

Mac chuckled. "I should tell you, I've never been much for a casual…" he racked his brain for the term.

"Casual fuck?" Speed supplied the answer even as he moved forward, sliding his good arm around Mac's waist and pressing himself against the Marine's muscular form, twitching as their erections brushed.

"Yeah."

"Well, don't worry about it," Tim said with a lazy grin as he ground his hips into the Marine's. "We'll get to more meaningful stuff when H gets home tonight. But for now…" He tilted his head up, pressing his lips to Mac's.

Mac felt himself swept up in the dizzying rush of blood that accompanied that kiss. He couldn't believe how aroused he was. Perhaps it was the man kissing him, scruffy and unshaven and with a casual, laid-back personality that Mac found so attractive for some odd reason. Perhaps it was the fact that it was sex in the shower, which didn't happen to the Marine too often, for reasons he'd already stated. Or maybe it was just the thought of just having a casual lay with a man that clearly desired him.

Or a combination of the three. Either way, Mac was definitely getting turned on, and he slid a hand up to grasp Speed's shower-soaked hair as his other hand reached between them, finding Speed's erection and wrapping a broad hand around it, and Speed moaned into Mac's mouth.

"You're not too subtle, are you?" Mac murmured as he broke the kiss to slide his lips down Speed's sandpaper jaw to the juncture of the man's left shoulder.

"Subtlety is for politicians," Speed replied, tilting his head back to give Mac a better angle. "I'm a scientist."

Mac smiled into the shower-wet skin, pressing hesitant lips in a request for more force. Speed's hand moved to Mac's head, threading fingers through the soaked brown hair in a push of gentle insistence. Mac acknowledged the silent permission by pressing his lips firmly against the younger man's shoulder, applying suction, marking him, and Speed groaned and lifted his head to chew carefully on Mac's ear.

Mac could feel Speed's eagerness, the younger man's cock throbbing in the Marine's hand. "So I take it you want to get fucked?" Mac rumbled as he released Speed's shoulder, and he felt the man's length twitch. Speed stepped back, brown eyes heavy with lust, and turned around to give Mac a shot at his rear. Mac took it, stepping forward and grabbing Speed's hip roughly with his right hand, his left bracing against the tiled wall, and Speed gripped the small handrail built into the shower doors.

Mac positioned himself at Speed's entrance, and hesitated. Speed sensed the question and turned his head to speak over his shoulder. "I'm clean, and I'm already stretched and lubed," he assured the Marine, voice cracking slightly, betraying his eagerness. Mac took the information in good faith and pressed forward. Speed had indeed done some stretching before inviting Mac into the shower, and Mac slid into that tight heat, the younger man's insides gripping him like a velvet glove. He buried himself all the way to the hilt, and Speed moaned and pressed back.

"How hard do you want it?" Mac growled, bucking his hips, and Speed made a low humming noise deep in his throat.

"Just… just don't make me hit my shoulder on anything," Speed finally replied, voice heavy. Mac responded by pressing himself close to the warm body in front of him, his left hand still on the wall and his right hand encouraging Tim to bend slightly before descending to younger man's iron-hard member. Speed was forced to brace his good hand on the wall next to Mac's as the Marine made good use of the slightly better angle, battering Speed's prostate, and the brown-eyed man moaned loudly.

Speed wasn't going to last long under Mac's assault, and his legs started to tremble as he neared orgasm, moaning as Mac stroked him inside out. The Marine felt it coming and he slowed, savoring it, making it last. Speed groaned and pushed back against Mac's hips, begging for more, and Mac waited until Speed was right on the edge before suddenly increasing his speed, and the younger man howled at the sudden onslaught as he came, Mac's hand pumping the throbbing length as the Marine buried himself deep inside the brown-eyed man.

Finally Speed sagged against Mac's muscular frame, but the Marine was ready, catching him before he fell. "Thanks," Speed whispered. He reared his head back, laying it on Mac's right shoulder. Mac muttered a thanks of his own as he lowered his lips to Speed's good shoulder, planting a friendly kiss.

"Want to finish your shower?" Mac finally growled into Speed's ear, and the younger man snorted.

"I was already clean." He paused. "But you're not." Speed stood and turned to face Mac, carefully dropping to his knees in the wet shower, finding Mac's erection. His good hand searched around the shower before finding the loofa he'd abandoned earlier, still with a bit of soap on it, and Speed began washing Mac's midsection.

Mac blinked down at the younger man. Speed's face was unreadable; a combination of tenderness, glee, and post-orgasmic afterglow, but Mac decided it didn't matter as Speed carefully began washing Mac's erection. When Speed apparently declared Mac clean, he did so by dropping the loofa, letting the shower rinse off the soap, and then burying his face in Mac's pubic hair.

Mac growled and held his hips still as Speed expertly sucked his cock, soaked black hair bobbing over Mac's length. Speed used his good hand to massage Mac's balls as he swirled his tongue around the head, dipping briefly in the Marine's slit before deep-throating him again, and Mac groaned. Speed gave damn good head, Mac decided, finally allowing his hips to thrust slightly, and Speed welcomed him.

It was with a hiss and a loud growl that Mac came, hips twitching as he slid into Speed's mouth as far as the younger man could take him, and Speed sucked firmly, milking every drop, and the Marine shuddered. When he was finished, Mac looked down and saw Speed looking back at him, mouth covered in the salty white fluid. Mac reached down to help Speed to his feet, capturing the younger man's mouth and cleaning every scrap of himself from the unshaven face.

"Mac?" Tim finally mumbled as he moved to embrace the larger man.

"Yeah?"

Speed gave Mac's waist a squeeze. "The water's getting cold."

Mac hadn't even noticed, but it was true. Chuckling, he released Speed and reached down to turn off the water, sliding the doors open. Mac reached for the towel as he stepped out, scrubbing his hair dry, and suddenly realized that he'd grabbed the only towel. He looked back at Speed, still dripping in the shower. "Wait there, I'll go get you another one," Mac promised as he tied the fabric around his waist and padded out into the hallway. He located the linen closet and grabbed a pair, going back to the bathroom and finding the shower door closed. "Tim?"

The door cracked open a bit. "You left the door open, and I'm wet."

Mac chuckled. "Sorry. Here, I brought you towels."

Tim accepted the peace offering, stepping onto the bath mat and allowing Mac to gently dry his legs and feet as Tim took the other towel and dried his own chest and hair. Mac stood and rubbed the cloth firmly against Tim's back, earning an appreciative growl.

Eventually Mac tied the towel around Speed's waist and took the spare, hanging it back on the bar. "Now, we need to get that brace back on you," Mac said in a tone that brooked no argument, and Speed sighed. He allowed Mac to help him into the sling, and Mac ran careful fingers along the arm as he settled the plastic brace into place just so, strapping it on.

One-armed once again, Speed stared at the brace as if in defeat. He sighed and shook his head, and looked up at Mac. "Want something to eat?"

Mac nodded. "You can cook one-handed?"

"Sure. I just need help with a few things."

Mac followed Speed to the kitchen, suddenly laughing. Speed turned. "What's so funny?"

Mac snorted. "More things to occupy our time until Horatio gets home?"

Tim grinned. "Hey, we have to eat, too. How about we make something now, eat a little of it, and finish it off after we're done with H?"

"Sounds good to me. What did you have in mind?"

Horatio stood in his office in the Crime Lab, hands on his hips, watching the orderly bustle of the lab techs without really seeing them. His mind was on Mac, on Speed and on Mac's little vacation. Knowing Speed, there would probably be some sort of erotic plans for tonight.

Right on cue, his cell phone rang. He flicked an eyebrow as he removed the device from his belt, flipping it open and raising it to his ear. "Horatio."

"H," a breathy voice said in his ear, and Horatio felt his cock stir out of pure habit. "I have a little surprise for you."

"Oh, and what's that, Speed?" Horatio replied, moving to where he couldn't be overheard.

"Mac's coming down for a visit today."

Horatio's eyebrows flicked. "He is? Odd, he didn't call."

"Danny called to let me know. But that's only part of what I wanted to talk to you about."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. You know that little toy I told you to bring to work with you?"

"Yes? I was wondering what you wanted me to do with it." Horatio reached his office, eyes drawn to the locked desk drawer containing a cloth-wrapped little bundle.

"Well, I want you to take it out, go to the bathroom," Speed took a breath, voice trembling, betraying his arousal, "and I want you to put it in and leave it there."

Horatio's breath hitched, his cock giving a twitch. "Leave it there?"

"For the rest of the workday. And leave the vibrator off." Tim gave an evil little laugh. "Call me when you get in the car and you're ready to drive home. Oh, and H?"

"Speed?"

"You are not allowed to come."

Suddenly the call ended, and Horatio was left staring at the phone. He really didn't want to try working with a sex toy just sitting inside him, but Tim was topping tonight, and what Master wanted, Master got. Idly he licked his lips, swiping a casual palm across the front of his pants. Taking a quick glance around to make sure he wasn't being watched, Horatio stepped over to his desk, unlocked the drawer, withdrew the little bundle, stuck it quickly inside his dress jacket, and headed for the men's room.

In the men's room, Horatio headed straight for an unoccupied stall, stepping inside and closing the door and making damn sure the bolt was locked. When it was, he dropped his pants and boxers, and reached inside his coat for the bundle.

Wrapped in a handkerchief was a dildo, of slightly-above-average length and width, with the speed control for a vibrator sticking out of the end. It was a perfect copy of Speed's dick. Horatio stared at it, absently licking his lips as he felt the heat pooling in his groin. Technically his shift would end in roughly one hour, provided nothing came up. His mouth twisted wryly at his own internal pun… and what the hell would he do if he was forced to go out on another call? The thought of crouching down next to Alexx and a dead body, with a rubber cock shoved up his ass, didn't appeal to him. And at the same time, it gave him a charge; the thought of working normally, all that time with such a dirty secret buried within him—again, no pun intended—made his own length give a definite twitch. He hadn't even put it in, and already he was getting a rush. _Dammit, Speed, I won't see you for at least another hour and a half, and you're already making me hard._

Making his decision, Horatio reached inside his coat for a tiny bottle of lube. He was rarely without it, and yet the bottle never seemed to see the light of day. Then again, Horatio was the type to always be prepared. He turned and backed to the commode, letting his pants and boxers puddle at his ankles so that anyone who happened to glance under the door would see a man that was presumably taking care of business. Briefly he unscrewed the cap of his little torture device, noticing the batteries nestled inside, and closed it back up with a smile and shake of his head. He was going to have to stretch himself out for this.

Sticking the toy in his coat pocket for safekeeping, Horatio dribbled some lube on his fingers. Bending over with the bottle in one hand braced against the wall, his oiled hand reached behind him, questing for the tight little pucker. His eyes closed involuntarily; biting his lip to keep silent, he penetrated himself. He briefly entertained the notion of playing with his prostate before chalking it up to be a bad idea. Horatio was one of those men that became extremely vocal when he was on the bottom—a complete 180-degree turn from when he topped—and the last thing he needed was for one of his subordinates to walk into the bathroom and have his ears assaulted by the sounds of his boss moaning.

Slowly Horatio inserted a second slick finger, trying not to savor the delicious sensations too much as he twisted, pumped, and scissored them, stretching the tight muscle. Sternly he reminded himself to leave his prostate alone as he began to slowly work in a third finger. When he felt he'd stretched himself as much as he could stand, he removed his fingers and pulled the toy back out. He gave another wry smile as he covered it liberally with lubricant, bent over, and slowly worked it in.

Little sparks flashed behind his eyes, and it took every ounce of self-control to keep silent and to not start fucking himself with it. It was one of Horatio's dirty little secrets: when he bottomed, he _bottomed_, and he became a fiend for stimulation. Speed knew that, and so it was a sort of exquisite torture for the redhead, being forced to be his dominant and controlled public self while having a 6.25-inch (rubber) dick nestled firmly in his rectum.

Finally Horatio got it all in and forced himself to let go of it. Briskly he capped the lube, pulled up his boxers and pants, flushed the toilet for good measure, unlocked the door, and headed straight for the sink to wash his hands. He'd need to check the bathroom stall before he left; he wanted no trace of lube anywhere, not when he was the bathroom's only occupant at the time. He'd already heard whispers of some ugly rumors, stemming from having a confirmed homosexual living with him, and as much as he wanted to put those rumor mills in their places and go public, he knew it would ruin him. He'd built up a careful reputation over the years, and such rumors could completely obliterate his credibility with the citizens he protected. To have those people suddenly stop trusting him would be a very deep wound, indeed.

Satisfied that he was without any lube transfer, Horatio headed back out into the lab. Suddenly he was struck by the fact that he had no cases he was actively working on at that very moment; it had been a slow crime day, which was in itself a rarity.

That left paperwork, to be completed while sitting at his desk.

_Speed, you_ bastard, _I'm going to get you back for this._

An hour later, Horatio seated himself carefully in his rented car, one hand with some papers casually covering the tent in his pants. He sent yet another silent prayer of thanks to his Irish ancestors, whose genes had given him a fair complexion that hid his blush. It had been all kinds of embarrassing to talk to _anyone_ in the lab, and he'd been carrying around a sheaf of meaningless documents ever since Speed's phone call.

Setting the papers aside, he took the phone from his belt and punched a number. The phone trilled in his ear, crackled, and a voice came on the line. "Caine residence."

"Speed, it's me."

A distinctly _smug_ note crept into his lover's voice. "Ah, H. You in the car?"

"I am."

"Does it have tinted windows?"

Horatio's breath caught. "No."

Speed clicked his tongue. "Too bad. I want you to reach behind you, into your pants, and I want you to turn the vibrator on the lowest setting."

Horatio's cock gave a definite twitch. "Speed…"

"Do it. And you still can't come yet."

"Speed, I… not in the parking lot, please."

Tim snickered. "Fine. You can make a quick pit stop in a gas station and do it then. But you'd better hurry up, traffic's starting to pile up on the causeway."

Horatio swallowed. "All right."

"Good boy. See ya when you get home, H." Speed ended the call with a dark laugh.

Horatio stared at the device in his hand, which didn't respond. He swallowed and put the phone back on his belt, and gripped the steering wheel tightly as he turned the ignition. He was almost painfully hard now, and he hoped to God he could get out of the parking lot in case anybody rapped on his window and needed to talk.

He pulled out and onto the road. He seriously considered stopping at a gas station as Speed had suggested, before remembering that he still wore his badge and gun. He could either carry his coat over his arm and curtain the front of his pants, or he could keep his dress jacket on and conceal his gun, putting the public more at ease. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, thinking.

Making his decision, he took the back roads, pulling over on a deserted stretch and putting the car in park, scooting forward in the seat to reach behind him and into his pants. It took a bit of wriggling before he located the vibrator, and he couldn't help biting his lip and growling as he turned the knob just enough to turn it on. The toy pulsated calmly against his prostate, and Horatio leaned his head back against the headrest for a moment, licking his lips.

He had to get home. Now. And once he did, he was going to fuck Speed senseless. Putting the car back in drive, he pulled back onto the road, headed for home.

"Speed?" Horatio entered the house, pausing to lock the door behind him. It was dark inside, and he started moving towards the light switch when he felt the hand cover his eyes. Speed's left hand. Judging by the hairy chest pressing against his back, Horatio guessed correctly that the younger man was shirtless, but still wearing his brace and sling as the doctor had ordered.

"Close your eyes," Speed purred, and Horatio did that. "Now," and the hand moved, coming back with some fabric that touched against Horatio's cheek. "Blindfold yourself." Horatio swallowed, taking the cloth strip and laying it in front of his eyes, tying it in the back. "Give me your gun, your badge, and your ID, and while I'm putting them up, I want you to strip." Horatio swallowed again, licking his lips, doing as he was told.

Tim splayed his hand, and Horatio placed the desired objects carefully in it, and he heard the bare feet pad off. While Tim was gone, Horatio shrugged off his jacket, unbuckling his belt and undoing his pants, unbuttoning his shirt, letting everything fall to the floor and stay there. He'd just removed the last article when he heard Speed returning. "Now, put this on," Speed ordered, and Horatio felt something thin and rubber pressed into his hand. A cock ring.

Horatio shivered. "Now, H. Put it on." Horatio did as he was asked, trying to ignore the dildo vibrating against his prostate. When the ring was on and Speed had checked the snugness, he felt his lover move behind him and tap on the end of the toy, causing Horatio to moan. Horatio could've sworn he heard the grin on Speed's face as the hand twisted the knob slightly, turning the vibrations up, and the redhead's knees twitched. "Now," and Speed took Horatio's hand, "follow me."

"Where's Mac?" Horatio asked as Speed led him.

"He's asleep. And no talking." Speed tugged Horatio's hand, leading the man into the living room, tossing a quick glance at Mac seated in an easy chair. Mac wore nothing but a pair of drawstring gym pants and his socks. He also had his cock in his hand, stroking it idly. On the coffee table was a row of penis-shaped toys, a small pile of torn condom wrappers, and an opened bottle of lube. Mac had helped him "prepare" all the dildos, as per Speed's little trick-to-come.

Speed led Horatio to the couch. "You're at the couch now. Hands on the back, one leg on the seat." Horatio did as ordered, and Tim stepped back. "I have noticed something lately, Horatio," Speed began, his voice turning dry and almost clinical. "I have noticed that you haven't been getting fucked very much, these past few weeks. I am going to correct that." He leaned close, his hand laying at the high point of Horatio's back, scratching lightly and slowly down the pale-skinned back as he spoke. "I made you put on the cock ring so you couldn't come. And now I am going to fuck you, with myself and a few toys, and I'm not stopping until I've come twice."

Horatio groaned, his voice cracking as Tim's hand tapped against the already-inserted toy again. "So, H, how'd you like having my dick up your ass for the last two hours?" Speed purred in the redhead's ear as he grabbed the base of the rubber cock, pulling it out slightly and pushing it back in again. "And the drive home, having to sit on it while it was vibrating… I'll bet that was torture. I know how much you love your vibrators." Horatio moaned again as Speed's thrusts became harder and faster.

Abruptly the movement stopped. "Use your own hand, keep fucking yourself," Speed ordered. "I'll be right back." Silently Horatio obeyed, one hand snaking behind himself to grab the vibrating rod that Speed had abandoned, thrusting it in and out of himself. Tim watched for a moment, satisfied, before stepping over to Mac. Making absolutely no sound, Mac helped Tim drop his pants and boxers, sliding a condom over the straining erection and slicking it up with lubricant.

By the time Speed made it back, Horatio was rocking his hips in time with his own thrusts, head rolling, growling in both the pleasure and the frustration of not being able to come. "Gimme that," Tim demanded roughly, swiping the rubber cock and tossing it on the couch, and Horatio gave a desperate noise at the sudden loss of sensations. "Oh, calm down, you slut. I've got something better."

Before Horatio could wonder what he meant, Speed lined up his slicked cock with Horatio's winking entrance and grasped the redhead's hip with his good hand. "I've got me." With that, he pulled slowly backwards, impaling the redhead on Speed's straining dick, and Horatio moaned again.

Mac fought to keep silent as he watched the one-armed Speedle begin to move in and out, fucking the redhead's brains out. Horatio was moaning unashamedly, pushing back at every stroke, slim thighs rippling with every impact. Mac chewed on his lower lip, sternly reminding himself to stop masturbating so hard; he didn't want to come before he got his turn.

Tim's thrusts became harder and more erratic, losing his easy rhythm for the sake of slamming into the redhead's ass, and Horatio was all but howling. Finally Speed grasped Horatio's hip so hard that Mac could see the knuckles turning white, Speed's mouth open in a silent scream as he came, buried balls-deep in his lover's ass.

Tim finally stepped back with a groan, Horatio making a loud warbling noise, desperate to be allowed to come. "Oh, I'm not finished with you yet," Tim informed him as he flopped onto the couch at Horatio's left. Panting heavily, he reached onto the coffee table for a Latex-clad dildo, tapping against the redhead's flank. "Warm that up with your mouth. I'll be fucking you with it next."

As Horatio snatched the toy and half-swallowed it, Tim peeled off his condom and dropped it into a nearby trash can, cleverly hidden beneath one of the end tables next to the couch. "You recognize that dick, H?" Speed hummed as he fished a small packet of baby wipes out from the end table's cabinet, cleaning himself off. "That's your own. That's the copy of yourself that you made, so I could keep myself company while you were gone." Horatio groaned as he licked and sucked at it as though it was a living cock, and Mac firmly gripped the armrests of his chair with both hands. He knew damn well what that mouth was capable of, and he was going to shoot his load before too much longer, whether he fucked Horatio or not. Speed noticed.

"All right, give it to me," Tim demanded, and Horatio relinquished his toy, bending over so Speed could slide it straight in. "Damn, H, you _do_ love to be fucked, don't you?" It was a rhetorical question; the redhead was definitely rocking his hips in time with Speed's thrusts with the dildo. "You like it any way you can get it, don't you? And you call _me_ a slut." Tim was half laughing, half growling, as he plundered his lover's depths.

Horatio was all but crying beneath the blindfold, his length a deep red with his frustration, when Tim pulled the toy away. "Next," he said gleefully, picking a certain condomed toy up. "This one, I know you'll love. You haven't felt it since you left New York." He noticed a tremor move up Horatio's spine. "It's Mac's copy, H. The biggest replica in our collection, and I'm about to pound your brains out with it."

Horatio gave in and made a whining noise as Tim handed him the toy, warming it with his mouth as he had the other one. While Horatio was occupied, Tim beckoned silently to the Marine on the chair, and Mac stood and moved to the couch without a sound. He'd already sheathed himself in Latex and lubed himself up, letting the water-based product warm around him. Tim had wanted to fool Horatio as long as possible, and Mac was nearly weak-kneed at the thought of it.

"Give," Speed finally demanded, and Horatio eagerly thrust the toy at him. Rather than plunging it in, Speed set it in his lap and reached out to wrap his hand around the base of Mac's dick, aiming it as he would the toy. As per Tim's earlier instructions, Mac stood with his hands on his hips, in order to not spoil the illusion. Mac gave up his control, allowing the one-armed devil have control of his body as Speed lined them up and gave a gentle tug, telling Mac to slowly slide in.

Mac was thicker than any other real-life replica in Tim and Horatio's collection, and even after being fucked by two dildos and a real dick, Horatio still needed time to adjust to Mac's girth. Mac had to bite his lip to keep silent as he slid in slowly, carefully, until Tim's hand was flush with Horatio's rear.

Tim gave an evil smile. "Now, H, I want you to fuck yourself onto this one. I'm going to hold it still, and I want you to fuck your own brains out." Mac controlled a full-body shudder as Horatio impaled himself on Mac's dick, the redhead groaning in time with his thrusts. "That's it, H. Take that cock," Tim coached, his hand suggesting to Mac that his hips give a little, in order to prolong the realism. There was no way in Hell that Speed would be able to hold his arm still while Horatio slammed into it.

Horatio angled his hips for another thrust, squeezing as he did, and Mac couldn't stop the groan that escaped his lips. The redhead froze. "Speed? What was that?"

Mac looked at Tim, who removed his hand and gave an 'Oh, why the hell not?' gesture. In response, Mac removed his hands from his hips and placed them firmly on Horatio's, impaling the redhead on his thick length. "I'm awake now, Horatio," Mac rumbled in his ear, voice heavy with lust.

Horatio swallowed. "Mac?"

"Mm-hmm. Nice to see you, too." Mac punctuated the sentence with a hard tug on the redhead's hips, and Horatio groaned again. "You know, come to think of it… I owe you one, from what you did in New York."

Horatio licked his lips, looking almost nervous. "Do you, now?"

"I do. What was it you said? Something along the lines of 'fuck me, just like Danny said you would.'" Mac leaned forward until his chest was pressed against the redhead's back, teeth to the sensitive ear. "Well, I intend to."

Horatio shuddered, squeezing Mac unintentionally. "What's the matter, H?" Tim taunted, voice belying the concern in his eyes. "Can't handle getting fucked standing up like that? Well, maybe you should lay down for a while." At Tim's nod, Mac pulled out of the redhead, expertly flipping him onto his back on the couch before crawling between his legs, Mac's back towards Speed. The Marine reached up, yanking the blindfold from Horatio's blue eyes, which were nearly cloudy with lust.

"Hi," Mac said casually as he hooked the redhead's knees over his shoulders.

"Hi yourself," Horatio panted, face flushed. "Oh God, Mac," he hissed, back arching as the Marine slid back in. "Oh, fuck me, Mac. I can't stand it much longer."

"See, Mac?" Tim said innocently. "I told you: when H tops, he's the master of control, but when he bottoms, he is _such_ a slut." Horatio grunted something, at which Tim stood, leaving his position behind Mac and moving to Horatio's head. "Must be tough, having to be so in control all the time, every day." Tim's voice had softened, affection shining in his eyes, and Horatio found himself focusing on that rather than the minor earthquakes coming from his nether regions. "I'm glad I could do this for ya, H. Let somebody else drive for a while."

Horatio mouthed a 'thanks' that quickly turned into a silent cry as Mac changed his angle, now pounding directly on the redhead's prostate. The Marine set a brutal pace, his muscular body slamming into the older man with the precision of a finely tuned machine. Horatio's face was tight, eyes squinched shut, mouth wide open, the couch creaking beneath him as he rode the force of Mac's hips slamming into the redhead's rear.

Speed hadn't thought that Mac could fuck Horatio any harder, but he was wrong. As Mac approached orgasm, chest heaving and sweat trickling down his muscular frame, the impacts of his hips against the redhead had Speed momentarily worried about Horatio's pelvis. He didn't have to worry long, though; Mac drew back his hips until he was almost completely clear of Horatio's entrance and then slammed back in one last time, hard enough that the entire couch threatened to scoot. The Marine gave an inarticulate shout as he came hard, the muscles in his arms and abdomen twitching, eyes rolled back into his head.

Finally Mac pulled out and paused long enough to plant a quick kiss on Horatio's lips before sinking backward, flopping onto the couch. Speed stepped over to the Marine. "Want some help with that?" he asked casually, pointing to the condom still on Mac's cock. Mac gave a tired shrug and so Speed knelt, peeling off the condom and sending it to the trash, then bending his head to lick up any spare traces. Mac was still hypersensitive from orgasm, and he twitched and growled as Speed directed his talents towards cleaning the cum from the sweating Marine.

Horatio couldn't help but see this, and gave an outright whine. "Sorry, H," Tim waggled a finger at him. "I told you, we're not stopping until I've come twice." Standing, he stepped over to the couch, semi-hard dick inches from the redhead's face. "Now get me hard again." Mac sat back and watched as Horatio eagerly wrapped his lips around his younger lover's cock, sucking urgently, and Speed's legs trembled.

"Oh no you don't, H." Tim pulled back, his length leaving Horatio's warmth with a loud popping sound. "You're not getting me that easy." He looked at the Marine, who was looking back. Speed pointed at Horatio's straining rod. "Mac, you mind putting that mouth of yours to good use? I'm going to get ready for the next part of the scene."

Mac nodded and shifted until he was on his knees and lowered his face to Horatio's aching length. The redhead's hands found Mac's hair and threaded through the soft brown strands almost desperately, begging silently. "Easy, Horatio," Mac chided with a smile, pulling back enough to tease the head with his tongue. "You don't slow down, you're going to end up breaking a hip, old man."

Tim gave a startled laugh. "You know, I was going to say the same thing to you, Mac. I was sure you were going to break him somehow."

Horatio recovered enough brainpower to give a quick "very funny, gentlemen" before Mac devoured his cock. The redhead hissed and moaned and writhed, his throbbing rod nearly purple in Mac's mouth.

"Hey, H, over here." Tim's voice came, and Horatio forced his eyes open to see Speed kneeling on what had been Mac's chair, the younger man's chest against the headrest of the chair and his good arm working Horatio's rubber dick slowly up his ass. "Watch this, H. This is me, fucking myself with your toy." Horatio gave a moan that was almost despondent as his blue eyes locked onto the sight of that rubber rod moving in and out of that tight ring of muscle.

He almost managed to ignore Mac, until the Marine upped the ante by cupping the redhead's balls, and instantly Horatio snapped his gaze back to the front, eyes closed, incoherent noises spilling from his lips. It went on like this for a while, Mac teasing Horatio until Tim grabbed his lover's attention for another brief show, and then Mac would start all over again. They passed Horatio's gaze back and forth between each other, teasing him, tormenting him, until finally Speed looked at Mac. "Okay, last phase, Mac." The Marine nodded and lifted his head, Horatio's diamond-cutter cock jutting straight up.

With his left hand, Mac pulled and tugged gently at the ring until it gave. Horatio bucked his hips up, trying desperately to gain some friction, when Mac's right hand closed tightly around the base of the redhead's dick, effectively stifling orgasm and acting as yet another cock ring, and Horatio outright whimpered.

"Almost there, H," Tim soothed as he stepped over to the couch, pulling out Horatio's rubber cock and setting it with the others on the table. "I wanna come on you this time, not in you." With Mac's assistance, Tim placed his left leg on the couch and braced his left arm on the couch's back, right foot on the floor. "Look at me, H," he ordered as he sank slowly down, Horatio's bare cock rising up to meet him. Mac flattened his hand, still with thumb and forefinger curled around the aching length, and Tim impaled himself on Horatio's dick until their flesh met even around Mac's hand.

Mac's free hand was not idle, and as Tim lifted himself slowly up, Mac's left hand found its way between Horatio's wide-open legs, seeking that still-open entrance, and Horatio made an incoherent noise as two of Mac's fingers found the redhead's prostate even as Speed let himself drop back onto Horatio's hips. Tim's head lolled, eyes rolling back into his head. "Oh, fuck… God, H," he panted, lifting and falling faster. "God, Horatio, jerk me off."

Lacking a free hand, Speed couldn't do it himself, but Horatio was more than happy to oblige. Speed had worked himself close to orgasm with the dildo, eager to end his lover's suffering, and it wasn't long before Tim was panting with lust and effort. "Almost there," he grunted, ass slapping against Horatio's hips with increasing urgency. "Almost… oh, H, fuck… Mac, let him go… _H!!!_"

Mac's right hand released Horatio's dick even as three fingers massaged the redhead's prostate, and as Tim sank down one last time, Horatio's hand squeezed him with nearly painful pressure as his long-awaited orgasm finally rushed forth. With a wordless roar, Horatio thrust hard into his lover, anal muscles squeezing Mac's fingers and his own hands working Speed's dick, his aching length pumping the blood-hot fluid that shot into Speed's guts even as the younger man came around his lover, squeezing hard, crying his name and shooting his own seed all over the redhead's chest.

Speed sat on his lover, their chests heaving, the air heavy with the scent of sweat and sex. Mac carefully stood and helped Speed climb off, lowering him back to the couch. Horatio looked like he wasn't going to be moving any time soon, and Speed wriggled until he could lay on his left side, wedged between the redhead and the back of the couch, his head on Horatio's chest. Mac smiled at them for a moment before Speed lifted a foot to brush against Mac's thigh. "C'mere, Mac. We won't bite."

Mac smiled and complied, easing himself down behind Speed to lay his head on the younger man's side, one arm draped over Speed's hips and his hand finding Horatio's foot. "Thank you both," he whispered. "That was incredible."

Horatio gave a tired smile, looking as though he was going to pass out any moment, and Speed began licking his lover's chest gently, cleaning his cum from the sparse red curls. "Thanks for your help, Mac," Speed said quietly once he was done. "I couldn't've pulled it off without you."

Horatio's left hand lifted briefly, trembled in the air, and flopped onto the redhead's stomach. "Can't think," he muttered.

Speed grinned and craned his neck to look Horatio in the face. "How about 'thank you, Speed?'" Horatio didn't answer, so Speed lowered his head for a gentle kiss. "Love you, H."

Horatio gave a weary smile, lifting his hand again to find Speed's arm brace and brushing his fingers on it. "Love you, Speed. And thank you."

A shadow crossed Mac's face, but he shook his head and chuckled as if trying to change the subject. "I have to say, that was one of the most intense things I've ever seen. That last part actually blew _my_ mind."

Speed snickered. "You know, technically H got off more than once."

Mac blinked at him. "How?"

Speed gave a dirty little grin. "He's the kind that some like to call 'multiply anally orgasmic.' You fuck him long enough, and whether or not you touch his dick, he can still come. He couldn't really shoot off with the cock ring on, but believe me, I've seen him do it before. All that twitching he was doing? He _was_ coming, he just couldn't shoot."

"So Horatio was actually…" Mac couldn't process it. It just defied logic, somehow.

"I was actually riding orgasm the entire time you were riding _me_." Horatio cut in with an exhausted smile. "If Speed hadn't made me wear this," and the redhead's fingers brushed the cock ring laying on the coffee table, "one of us would be going for a mop and a steam-cleaner right about now."

Mac couldn't help a snort at the image that popped into his head. "That would be something to see," he admitted.

The two lovers and their guest were quiet for a bit longer, enjoying the quiet and each other, when abruptly Horatio's stomach grumbled. Mac started to chuckle when Speed's abdomen emitted an answering growl. "By God, you've even got matching digestive systems," he said wonderingly, eyebrows to the ceiling, causing the Miami lovers to laugh.

"H, you hungry?" Speed asked, sitting up. "Mac helped me cook this afternoon, and there's still plenty left over."

"Sounds good," the redhead agreed, and the group stood and stretched. Speed began padding toward the kitchen, pausing to watch Horatio give Mac a gentle kiss and a firm embrace. "Thanks for coming, Mac."

"No problem," Mac replied, pulling away and putting a hand on the redhead's lower back to guide him to the kitchen.

Speed snickered. "If this is just a case of 'fostering good working relationships over state lines,' then where do I sign up?"

The two Shift Supervisors laughed. "Be good, Speed," Horatio waggled a finger at him, "and next time I might bring you with me."

"I could go for that," Mac said amiably, and they smiled at each other as they headed for the kitchen.

The evening passed quietly, with the three men catching up and sharing stories. It was no surprise when Mac was invited to sleep with his hosts, and it made a merry threesome as they settled down for the night.

FIVE MONTHS AFTER SHOOTING

The rude blaring of the alarm clock pulled Horatio from the peaceful oblivion of sleep. Out of habit, he reached out to slap the offending appliance as quickly as possible to avoid jarring Speed awake. He preferred other methods for that task.

He glanced at his lover. Speed lay on his right side, facing Horatio and showing no signs of wakefulness. He was slightly curled up, one fist bunching the bedsheets under his chin, snuggled down like a child with a thick comforter on a cold winter night. It was still late summer, but apparently the heat didn't bother him.

Horatio took a moment to simply look at his lover. Speed typically looked unshaven and calm, but there was a certain appeal to the unguarded, peaceful look on his face. Horatio smiled as Speed twitched and made a grumbling noise in his sleep, rolling onto his back, and the smile grew as the familiar sounds of snoring began to emanate from his slumbering bedmate.

Still smiling, Horatio slipped carefully out of the bed and made his way to the bathroom, answering nature's call. When he'd finished and washed his hands, he emerged back into the bedroom to see Speed back on his side, his arm now stretched out like it was searching for Horatio's presence. The redhead wore a tender expression as he reached into the nearby chest of drawers for a pair of boxers, idly dropping them on the bed.

"H?" came the sleepy moan, and Horatio turned to see Speed almost fully on the redhead's side of the bed, one eye barely cracked open.

"Good morning, Speed," Horatio said smoothly, climbing onto the bed and crawling toward the brunette. He placed a gentle kiss on the younger man's cheek and knelt up to fiddle with the curtains over the head of the bed. Far in the distance, he could see the edges of the sun beginning to peek over the horizon.

Speed grunted and pulled the sheets over himself. "Damn morning people," he muttered.

"Oh, come on, Speed. You used to work these hours, remember?" Horatio chided gently. When Tim didn't respond, Horatio lowered himself back down to cover his hidden lover with his body. "Speed…"

A string of noises came from underneath the fabric, which Horatio managed to translate as "Just five more minutes?"

Horatio chuckled. "Don't make me come in there."

Speed's good hand emerged from the tangle of cloth, clearly giving Horatio a one-finger salute. Horatio regarded it for a moment before it disappeared back to where it had come from. "Is that a challenge?"

The warm lump under Horatio shifted, trying to wriggle the redhead off without too much effort. The attempt was largely unsuccessful, and Horatio retaliated by slipping a hand under the covers, fishing around until he located Speed's neck. He played his fingers on the soft hairs at the nape, and Speed squirmed and tried to burrow further underneath the cloth. "_H…_" came the petulant whine.

Horatio slid over until he was perpendicular to his lover's body, sliding his other hand into the warm cocoon and locating Tim's stubbled cheek, giving it a teasing little pinch. Speed growled and tried to shift away again. Horatio followed him, this time lifting the covers enough to get his head underneath. Speed started bitching about the invasion of cold and light when Horatio's mouth found the younger man's ear and gave it a chiding nibble, and the bitching shifted to his new irritations.

"Dammit, H… why do I let you do this to me?" Speed grumbled as he finally allowed Horatio to pull the covers down to his chest, the redhead kneeling next to him.

"Because you love me?" Horatio responded, his face the very picture of innocence and sincerity.

Speed looked at him for a long moment, and yawned. "You play dirty." He shifted and stretched, scratching his neck. "And yes, I do love you. Happy?"

Horatio smiled and bent down for a kiss. "Being allowed to wake you up every morning is a joy in itself, Speed. You know why?"

"Why's that?"

Horatio's second kiss lasted a bit longer. "Because it means that you slept beside me last night."

Speed's face softened. "That's one way to look at it." He returned the kiss, his good hand reaching up to gently cup the back of his lover's head. "But honestly," he started as they broke apart, "does the term 'cruel and unusual' mean anything to you?"

Horatio gave one of his rare laughs as he sat up. "I could have pulled back the sheets and turned all the lights on," he suggested dryly. Speed flipped him off again and rubbed the grit out of his eyes. "Don't tempt me."

Speed tossed the sheets away from him with all the enthusiasm of a man headed for the gallows. "I will never understand morning people," he grumbled, sitting on the edge of the bed and massaging his bad shoulder.

Horatio noticed, of course. Speed had been allowed to remove the brace a couple of weeks ago, and he'd started physical therapy. Movement was extremely limited and somewhat painful, more the result of muscle atrophy than from the injury itself. "Is it bothering you?" he asked softly.

"Not really. I just keep sleeping on it funny, that's all." Speed tilted his head from side to side, working out the kinks as well as a few pops from the joints—and that was all popping joints was, really, just releasing air bubbles in the cartilage—and stared at the little table on his side of the bed. Regretfully he reached for the sling and nestled his arm in it, sliding the strap over his head. The physical therapist had given him a stern warning to wear his sling for most of the day, and only remove it when it was absolutely necessary or to go to therapy.

Horatio reached over to lay his hand on his lover's shoulder in a comforting gesture, before climbing off the bed and heading for the closet. He chose the day's clothing, gathering the garments over his arm and going for the bathroom with Speed not far behind. They stood there, watching each other, before Horatio chuckled. "I'm not turning the shower on until you flush the commode, Speed, so don't bother standing there waiting for me."

Tim scowled. "Spoilsport," he muttered as he stood over the toilet and took care of business. When he was finished, he glanced over at Horatio who still stood there. "You're no fun," Tim grumbled as he flushed.

"I beg to differ," Horatio said in mock-protest as he started the water running. "I'm plenty of fun."

Speed regarded him for a moment. "I know a lot of people that would disagree with you on that one, H." He turned to the mirror, wondering if today would be his once-a-week shave, when a wave of water crashed over him. "The _hell?!_" he yelped, turning to see Horatio ducking behind the shower door and setting the sprayer back on the wall bracket. "Oh, no you didn't!"

He stomped carefully back over to the toilet, trying to avoid going down on his dignity while crossing the wet tile floor and he gave the handle another jerk, forming a vindicated smile at the startled shout from the other side of the shower doors. "Having fun, H?" he called, speaking loud enough to be heard over the running water.

"_Plenty,_" Horatio replied in a voice dripping with sarcasm, the morning's enthusiasm having dropped noticeably.

Speed stared at the slim figure, silhouetted through the frosted glass of the doors. He could probably count on one hand the number of people who knew about this side of Horatio and still have fingers left over. The concept of Horatio being _playful_ in the mornings just didn't seem to fit with his 'public personality,' but he could be downright mischievous. It gave Tim a comforting feeling, knowing that he was one of the chosen few that was allowed to see this facet of the redhead.

"Hey, I'm gonna start breakfast, okay, H?"

"All right. Be down in a few minutes."

Speed paused in the bedroom to slide on a pair of boxers and sweatpants before padding downstairs. As always, he took a moment to reflect on how much he liked the place. It was big—but then, there really wasn't any such thing as a mid-sized home in Miami. Everything was either tiny, cookie-cutter suburb style, big, or palatial. He'd often wondered why Horatio had such a big home all to himself, before deciding _why not?_ The guy could afford it. Another part of it was probably Horatio keeping up with appearances.

Not that H was the follow-the-crowd type of guy; just the opposite, in fact. Horatio had a big house for the same reason that he dressed the way he did. Casual, elegant, and enabling to mix more easily with the general populace of the city. People with money tended to lean closer to other people with money, and Miami was indeed a city ruled by People With Money.

And besides, as much as Horatio tended to deny himself the pleasures of the material world, there was something about coming home to a good-looking house that tended to brighten a bad day.

Horatio's house reminded Speed of the crime lab, in a way. Not with the honeycomb interrogation rooms or the fluorescent lighting that sometimes made one feel as though they worked in a fish tank and interrogated suspects in a beehive. No, it was a smooth modernistic structure of steel and glass, except here much of the flooring was done in hardwoods and stone.

It was also rather bare. Sure it looked nice enough, with comfortable leather seats and more steel-and-glass furniture in the living room, pictures on the walls, but the general décor seemed to strike Speed as something of an afterthought. He figured, Horatio had known that a certain spot on the wall needed some artwork, and had plucked a piece from a bin at random. Not to say that the artwork was cheap; it wasn't extravagant, either. It just seemed to be a placeholder. At least Horatio hadn't gone the way of most Miami socialites and made his house look like it just came out of a magazine. There was _some_ personality here, but not much.

Before Speed had moved in, Horatio had all but lived at the crime lab, going home only to sleep, eat, shower, and do what laundry that didn't have to be taken to the dry cleaners. Nowadays, Horatio actually seemed to enjoy coming home.

_Home,_ Speed mused. _Is this my home?_ Horatio had welcomed Speed with open arms when the younger man had first moved in, but Speed still couldn't shake the feeling that this was still _Horatio's house_ and Speed was just staying there. Sure he loved the place, and loved being near Horatio, but he supposed he'd never really finished moving in. To him, you were done moving in when the place looked and felt like home.

_That's what I'll do today,_ Speed decided. _I'm going to rearrange some things, at least._ He headed for the kitchen and popped some bread into the toaster as he began rummaging around in the fridge for ingredients. On the countertop, the coffeepot finished its scheduled task, steam wafting from the carafe.

"Hey, Speed?" Horatio came down the stairs, shrugging into his dress jacket. His hair was still slightly damp, and Speed raised an eyebrow. Horatio always finished drying his hair.

"What's up, H? You want pancakes for breakfast?"

Horatio shook his head ruefully and held up his cell phone. "I'm afraid I'll have to take a rain check on that. I just received a call." He clipped the device to his belt and sighed. "Looks like I'm getting started early today."

Speed gave a disappointed sigh. "Duty calls, I guess. At least take some toast and coffee."

"Thank you." Horatio came over and wrapped his arms around his lover in a strong embrace, letting the scent of the younger man overwhelm him and trigger the responses in his brain that the redhead registered as comfort. "Love you, Speed."

"Love ya, H." They broke apart and Speed reached for the toast, which had just popped up, wrapping the slices in some paper towels. Speed handed them to his lover with a quick kiss. While Horatio juggled the hot towels, popping the partial contents of one of them into his mouth, Speed pulled a small Thermos from the dishwasher and filled it with good, strong coffee. "Go get 'em."

Horatio gave a friendly wave as he headed out, pausing at the gun safe hidden in the foyer closet to get his badge, gun, and CSI ID. "See you tonight, Speed," he called as he walked out the door.

The door shut, and Speed was alone. This was the part he hated more than anything else in the day. He now had to wait until Horatio came home, wondering what kind of cases he was working on, or if anyone was taking shots at him.

The solution, as Speed always figured it, was to stay busy. That, and wait for H to call whenever he broke his concentration long enough to eat something. And today Speed had decided that he was going to mess with Horatio's house. Popping more bread in the toaster, Speed put back the pancake mix and instead went for the milk, digging around in the cabinets for a bowl, spoon, and some dry cereal. Hey, just because he was a damn good cook didn't mean he couldn't enjoy a bowl of Lucky Charms every now and then.

Horatio had remarked once that Speed had picked them up just because there was a redhead on the box. Speed had snorted but given no other response. The thought made him smile now as he put the milk up and brought his bowl and toast into the living room, then went back for coffee. First things first: breakfast and the news. Then he'd get to work on the house.

SEVERAL HOURS LATER

"Speed, I'm home!" Horatio called as he closed the door behind him. CSI that he was, it took him no time at all to notice that something was _different_. He thought for a moment, looking around, and it hit him: the painting on the wall, the one that held sway next to the hooks for keys, above the table for his out-the-door things, the painting was different. Horatio's brows furrowed as he took in the picture. It wasn't the Miami Beach that he was used to. Instead, it was a shot of the Miami skyline at sunset, with just enough light to perfectly silhouette the tall buildings dotted with lights.

Eyebrows raised, Horatio stowed his gun in the closet's gun safe and moved further into the house. As he rounded the corner to the living room, he noticed another change. Instead of an aerial photo of the Everglades, it was a… coat of arms? Stepping closer, he realized that there was a near-matching picture of a different coat of arms next to it. He stared at them for a moment before picking out a different name underneath each picture. The names were, he realized, the ancient Gaelic versions of what he now called Caine and Speedle.

Horatio's curiosity was definitely piqued as he stepped into the living room. "Speed…" he started, and stopped.

Some of his old artwork still remained, the ones he'd actually liked. Others had been changed in favor of photos. One he recognized as the glittering Las Vegas Strip, at night. Another, the New York skyline on a sunny day. Cities, full of people and possibilities, rather than the placeholder landscape pictures so common to Miami.

And it wasn't just the wall art. There was a new rug under the coffee table. Not the one that had barely any wear on it; no, this one he recognized from Speed's apartment, with plenty of foot traffic evident on it… not to mention a few well-repaired stains. There were more knick-knacks on shelves and tables, random items that didn't match and had no value other than sentiment. Some he recognized, some he did not.

Horatio decided that, for some oddly comforting reason, he liked the change. "Speed?" The man in question popped his head up from where he'd been doing something behind the couch; he stood there, looking almost sheepish. "Speed, did you do all this?"

"Uh-huh. I, uh, hope you don't mind, H."

Horatio could only stand there, looking at the change that had come over his house. Where it had looked clean, functionally stylish, and quite un-lived-in, it was now… occupied. There was a definite indication that someone used this residence as more than just a place to sleep and do laundry. "It must have taken you all day to do this."

"Pretty much, yeah. You, uh, you like it?"

Horatio blinked. "Why wouldn't I?"

Speed shifted from foot to foot, almost petulant. "Because I dug through some boxes in the attic to find something to decorate with? Like that one over there?"

Horatio blinked and followed his lover's gaze to the mantel of his fireplace—what did he need a fireplace for, anyway? It was Miami, after all, but it had come with the place—where he could see a very old photograph of Speed, his mother and father, and a much younger brother that he thought he'd heard Speed refer to as James, mounted in a battered-looking frame on one end. In the middle of the shelf was a group shot of the Miami-Dade day shift, with Horatio in the middle and the group arrayed around him. Speed had cleverly managed to be standing next to Horatio during the snapshot, and the two had arms around each other's shoulders in a friendly, platonic way. It _had_ been platonic, back then.

On the other end of the shelf, the photo from the attic that Speed had referred to, was a blurry picture of nine-year-old Horatio and his mother, and a young Raymond. The sight of her face, and his brother's, made Horatio's breath catch in his throat. "I thought I lost this photo," he whispered.

Speed shrugged, still looking a bit guilty. "Well, I found it. Do you mind that it's there?"

Horatio was transfixed by the images on the shelf before him. "Of course I don't, Speed."

Speed coughed and stuffed one end of the dust rag in his pocket—and that's what he'd been doing, actually—and stepped closer to his lover. "You know, I could probably work on that picture. Sharpen up the image a little, brighten the color." He ducked his head a moment. "Maybe fix your teeth?"

Horatio's mouth twitched at the ancient image of himself, grinning back at him with a gap-toothed smile. Absently he reached up to his own mouth, touching a fingertip to the fake tooth. It had taken quite a bit of his mother's savings for her son to get the replacement, especially at that young of an age. It had been the combination of a skateboard, a dare from his brother and some friends, and an unexpected break in the concrete that had resulted in that toothy grin.

Horatio finally looked at Speed, who was still standing there with big, watery eyes like he'd done something wrong but wasn't quite sure what. "Speed… thank you. It's fine the way it is, but thank you."

"So… you're not mad at me? That I went through your stuff?"

"Why would I be?"

Speed shrugged. "I don't know, I just… It's your stuff, and I'm just staying here, and—"

"Speed," Horatio interrupted firmly, stepping to his lover and placing gentle hands on his shoulders, "you live here, too. This is _our_ place, you understand?"

Speed's eyes glittered, and he ducked his head. "You got it, H," he said softly.

Horatio understood what was going through his lover's mind, and wrapped him in a firm embrace. Speed seemed a bit startled at first, but he quickly warmed to it, hugging back. When they finally pulled away, Horatio moved to capture Speed's lips.

Speed sighed happily. The kiss was warm and sweet, and tender, and everything he'd hoped for in Horatio's response. The redhead's thin lips danced across Tim's unshaven mouth, loving the younger man's stubble as much as he loved his responsiveness. It was all part of the package that some benevolent being had decided to send to Earth under the name of Tim Speedle, and Horatio treasured it.

Finally they broke apart, looking at each other. Horatio's blue eyes were warm and caring. "Now, Speed, what else did you do to our house?"

Speed gave another sheepish grin as he pulled out of Horatio's embrace. "Remember that suggestion you made, about 'my' room?" Horatio nodded; he'd mentioned to his lover once that one of the guest rooms should be set aside as Speed's, with a little décor and at least a few clothes in the drawers, in case the pair should ever have guests that were unwitting as to their hosts' relationship. "Well, I did it."

"Let's see."

Speed led the way. He'd chosen the upstairs bedroom that was two doors down from the master bedroom, the one with the better view of the street. He'd tacked up a few photos, put a few books and assorted knick-knacks on the shelves, and generally made the room look like a hotel room that had been lived in for roughly a week: not quite the tenant's, but having been occupied long enough to have its own personal flavor. From what Horatio could tell, Speed had turned the room more into a private study than personal sleeping quarters.

Even the bed looked a little rumpled. "I took a nap in here," Speed explained. "And I think I'll use this as a study, and let you have the main one. I know you want us to share everything, but personal experience tells me that too much togetherness can be a bad thing."

Horatio couldn't help but agree. He also liked the room; it was the one place that had tossed out the house's elegant-modern look in favor of a science geek with a fondness for rock music. It really was Speed's room.

"I like it," Horatio said firmly. "You even put up those posters from your old place."

Speed rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, I didn't think you'd like them in the living room."

Horatio chuckled. "No, I hate to say that I probably wouldn't. Now, what else did you do?"

They began to make their way back downstairs. "I sorted the books. I remember telling Tripp thanks for putting them up in alphabetical order by author, but…"

"No need to explain," Horatio interrupted smoothly. There was something distinctly odd, and a bit irritating, to have lived with seeing books by Horatio Alger—for whom his mother had named him—nudged so close to Speed's _Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy Compendium._ "I'm glad you did it."

"Me, too."

They reached the foot of the stairs. "Anything else you want to show me, Speed?"

"Nah, you've seen pretty much everything." Speed pulled the rag back out of his pocket and swiped it over a table. Suddenly he stopped, turning to look at Horatio with an expression on his face that the redhead couldn't read. "Tell you what, I'm going to take a shower. There's somewhere I want to go with you."

Horatio tilted his head. "Is it a surprise?"

Speed ducked his head. "Yeah, it kinda is. But you'll like it, I promise."

Horatio nodded. "It's a date, then."

He couldn't miss the look on Speed's face, like a child who had just been told that he's being taken to get some ice cream. They _had_ been real homebodies lately, but that was understandable with Speed's injury and with the views of society in general. Tonight, Horatio decided, they were getting out of the house.

"I still can't believe I convinced you to wear that."

"Hmm?" Horatio glanced over at Speed, who sat in the passenger seat and had barely stopped staring at him.

"That outfit. The only times I've ever seen you out of a suit are at home or at the club."

"Or naked."

Speed grinned. "Or naked. But you know what, H? You should dress down more often."

Horatio flicked a glance at his casual jeans and battered old sneakers. He wore a white T-shirt covered with an old, slightly cracked black leather jacket that he hadn't seen in years; Speed had found it hiding in a closet. "I don't see what's so special about it. Matter of fact, it feels a bit odd."

Speed snorted. "Like I said… you live in suits. Which is kinda ironic, considering where we're going."

"How's that?" Horatio asked reasonably, one eyebrow raised, but Speed offered no explanation; he simply gave turn-by-turn directions.

"Leon's?" Horatio read the sign over the door as he pulled up to the classy-looking building in downtown Miami. He couldn't recall ever being here. He looked over at Speed, who had put on some tight jeans and a t-shirt after his shower, leaving the arm sling at home.

"Yeah, Leon's an old friend of mine. Besides," and here Speed looked down, as though blushing. "I wanted to get you something."

As they walked to the door, Horatio could clearly see Leon's products in the window: men's suits. "He's a tailor?"

"One of the best. Don't worry, H, you'll enjoy this."

"Enjoy what? Speed, I have plenty of suits, as you pointed out earlier."

"Yeah, but not by this guy." Speed held the door open. "Trust me. I may not look it, but I know good quality when I see it. Besides, he won't say anything about us because he's—"

"Hel-_lo,_ hel-_lo,_ welcome to Leon's!" A male voice trilled from behind racks of clothing. Stationed at the front cash register, a teenage girl perched on a stool and pointed with her nail file at the man wading between two mannequins to emerge before them. Horatio observed a slim, well-dressed Caucasian with bleach-highlighted hair down to his collar, a goatee, and pale green eyes. A cloth measuring tape hung around his neck, and Horatio observed a pincushion seemingly strapped to one shoulder, and a few other tools of the tailor's trade. "I am Leon, how may I—" he stopped abruptly, staring at them, then suddenly clapped his hands together and jumped up and down, all but squealing. "Ooh, Timmy Speedle! How _are_ you? It has been _too long!_"

Speed stepped forward and allowed himself to be wrapped up in a torso-only hug from this man. "Hey, Leon, how you been?" Speed asked.

"Oh, I have been _super_, I have been _fantastic_, and I have not _heard_ from you!" Leon put his hands on Speed's biceps. "Just _where_ have you been hiding, young man?"

"With me," Horatio put in mildly, and Leon turned—and his jaw dropped.

"Ooh, Speedy, is this…?"

Speed smiled. "Leon, this is Horatio. H, I'd like you to meet Leon Tambler, the best tailor you've never heard of."

Leon flounced over and stuck a hand out, palm down, and Horatio shook it. "It is a _pleasure_ to meet you, good sir," the blond said firmly. With Horatio still holding his hand, Leon turned to Tim. "Speedy, he is _cute!!!_"

"Leon…" Speed took on a pained, yet still proud, expression. Horatio caught his eye and mouthed _'Speedy?'_ Speed shrugged and waved a hand dismissively. Apparently everyone was on a nickname basis with Leon. "Leon, we'd each like a suit."

Leon placed his hands together and bowed slightly. "Well, you have _definitely_ come to the right place. You have my _gratitude_ for allowing me to use such exquisite canvases upon which to _weave_ my masterpieces."

Glancing at the redhead, Speed figured Horatio's forehead must have been cramping from being held in check, restraining his incredulous look. "Leon, please don't embarrass him," Speed begged. "I'm not in the closet anymore, but he _is_."

"And so he _frowns_ on public displays of affection." Leon pooh-poohed the idea. "I _know_ who you _are_, Horatio, I've _seen_ you on the news. But do you have _any_ idea just _how_ many men in this city are in _your_ shoes?"

One of Horatio's eyebrows broke free and raised itself high. "I can't begin to guess, Mr. Tambler."

Leon winked at him. "Aren't _you_ a gentleman?" he said with a smile that was entirely too self-satisfied. "_More_ than you _think_, but _Leon_ doesn't kiss and tell."

Speed came to the rescue. "H, he's saying that your secret is safe with him. And I've never heard of him breaking confidentiality. That would kill his client base, at the very least."

Leon nodded emphatically. "_I_ do not _advertise_. If you want an _original_ suit from me, _I_ have to know who _sent_ you."

Horatio smiled at the man's cleverness. "So your clientele is expanded entirely by word-of-mouth, and at the same time you're privy to their dirty little secrets?"

Leon sniffed the air and batted away the foul odors of such base accusations. "You, sirs, are in the care of _Leonardo Tambler_, an _artist_ who turns men into works of art. Leon _knows_ all, Leon _sees_ all, and Leon tells _no one_. Now, _if_ you'll follow me, gentlemen?"

Leon led the way to the fitting room, which included a small raised platform and several mirrors as well as swatches of cloth pinned to the walls. "Let's do the sexy redhead first," he said with perfect seriousness. Speed choked on absolutely nothing, and Horatio couldn't hold back a bark of laughter. Leon turned to look at them, one eyebrow raised. "Did I say something funny?"

Speed just grinned and shook his head. "You never change, do you, Leon?"

"Now _where_ would the fun in _that_ be?" Leon tilted his head and smiled back, and sent a positively flirtatious look at Horatio. "Hey you, Mr. Blue-Eyes. Strip for me, please?"

Horatio sent an incredulous look at Speed, who was trying very hard—and failing—to keep a straight face. "T-shirt and boxers are fine, H."

Leon pouted. "Speedy, don't ruin my fun!"

Speed walked over to Horatio, who still looked unsure, and led him to the tailor's little platform. "C'mon, H," Speed reasoned as he slid the redhead's leather jacket off, "don't tell me you've never been fitted for a suit before."

"Of course I have, just not…" Horatio stopped when Speed began unbuckling his pants, and shot a quick look at Leon. "Speed, let me—"

"H," Speed interrupted firmly and cradled his lover's face with both hands, and mashed their lips together firmly. Horatio's eyes closed despite his reservations; Speed was rarely so demanding, and at times like this, it was all the redhead could do to simply hold on for dear life. He opened his mouth and let Speed's tongue dive in, his hands sliding around his lover's waist despite himself. Speed let go of Horatio's head and went back to work on his jeans, and finally the weight of his phone and belt and the contents of his pockets sent the unbuttoned, unzipped denim puddling to the floor.

"That is _the_ hottest thing I've seen all _week_," came a voice, and Horatio snapped back out of instinct. Leon was standing there, all but drooling. Seeing the reaction he'd provoked, Leon's eyes widened and he raised his palms. "Oh, no need to stop because of little old _me_, Horatio."

Speed stepped forward again, putting his arms around his lover's neck. Seeing Horatio's look, Speed gave a sly grin. "Told ya. Leon doesn't care."

"Leon cares _very_ much!" the tailor countered. "_Leon_ wants to see it again!"

Speed gave his old friend a dirty look. "Unless you've got Jeremiah hidden somewhere around here to take the edge off, that's a no. I'm not letting you walk around all day with images of me and H dancing through your head. _If_ you catch my drift."

Leon waved dismissively. "Oh, I'll get him to erase all those images tonight. Bend me over the couch, and—"

"Leon!" Speed coughed. Standing between them in his next-to-nothings, Horatio's face nearly matched his hair, and Speed knew that it took a _lot_ to make the redhead lose his composure like that. "I asked you not to embarrass him."

Leon actually looked apologetic. "Sorry, Speedy."

Speed started to step off the pedestal, stopped, and turned to look at his flame-red lover. "You know, H, I think this is the first time in a while that I've seen you blush." He leaned in closer, his eyes darkening. "I also think that it's making me hard as hell."

Horatio couldn't stop his eyes from flicking down to Speed's pants, where there was a noticeable bulge. He looked back up at his lover, becoming slightly aroused himself. "Does it, now?" he whispered.

"Uh-huh." Speed's eyes were smoldering darkly as he leaned in again for another kiss. "But I'll take it all out on you later tonight."

Horatio tilted his head and closed his eyes, glorying in the feel of Speed's hands sliding around his waist to grab two firm handfuls of his ass. His breath hitched; he was definitely getting turned on, despite the audience. Where had this boldness come from, he wondered? It was strange, and at the same time so wonderfully familiar.

Suddenly Speed drew back. "Be good, H, and I'll take you clubbing next week," he said softly, and memory came flooding back to him. By clubbing, Speed meant going to Club Deviate… Mistress Pamela's place. Of course had felt strange; it had been almost half a year since their last visit.

It was with a sigh of regret that Speed broke contact and stepped off the little pedestal, making a _ta-dah!_ motion with his hands. Leon eagerly hopped up to the redhead, and Horatio prepared himself for the worst.

To his surprise, Leon didn't do half of what Horatio had expected. Despite the man's obvious personal preferences, he was entirely professional when it came to taking Horatio's measurements. During the most recent occasion in which Horatio had been fitted for a suit, the man measuring him had seemed embarrassed to have his hands so near his client's crotch. Leon had no such problems, but he didn't linger, either. He was quick, efficient, and focused.

Physically focused, anyway. Leon's mouth was going a mile a minute, chattering about (apparently) some old friends of Speed's, and who was dating whom. For his part, Speed chattered right back. This puzzled Horatio; he'd never known Speed to be the chatty type. It was probably a subconscious effort to keep up with the tailor and his litany of names of people Horatio had never heard of.

No, not names. Nicknames. Leon had called Tim 'Speedy,' so these other names must be real people as well. Smart, preserving reputations when setting up blind dates. Leon was truly a genius when it came to the male mind. And apparently the male body, judging by the way Speed kept looking at Horatio with such anticipation.

Leon finished collecting his measurements and entered into a huddle with Speed. This huddle was odd, because they were both staring straight at Horatio, striking poses of deep thought and consideration. Horatio stood bemused as he caught snatches of suggestions about color, cut, and even the type of fabric. It wasn't until the two began to get in a heated discussion about the light-absorbing and refracting qualities of silk versus satin that he coughed. "Gentlemen, I'm still standing here."

"Good, H, just hang on a sec." Speed was quick, and sounded a little irritated. For his part, Leon was getting a bit huffy himself. Horatio recognized that this was a battle of professionals, the trace-expert CSI versus the tailor, and took a step back.

Finally they came to some sort of compromise, and Leon was all smiles again. "Your turn, Speedy," he said with a suggestive arch of the eyebrow, and Speed gave a lopsided grin. He yanked his T-shirt over his head as Horatio stepped toward him carrying his own clothes.

Horatio leaned to Speed's ear. "So, are you so knowledgeable about fabrics because you learned it from him, or you're trying to keep up with him?" Speed could only snort and shake his head as his jeans hit the floor. He stepped on the little pedestal and spread his arms, bare-chested, and Leon went to work. The tailor started at the right wrist for a point of reference and quickly traveled up the arm, but when his gaze landed on the shoulder, he halted mid-sentence.

"Speedy… _what_ is _that_?"

Speed followed his gaze to the bullet-hole scar on his joint, surrounded by all the surgical scars. "Oh… I got shot."

Leon's hand flew to his mouth. "_Shot?!_ Just like _that?!_ Speedy, you could have been _killed!_ Oh, _why'd_ you have to go into such _dangerous_ work?" he moaned worriedly, flapping his hands. Horatio imagined that the tailor couldn't have been more frazzled if Speed had suddenly started bleeding.

"Speed saved my life, Leon," Horatio cut in quietly. "And I took down the one that shot him."

"_Good,_" Leon snarled with uncommon vehemence. Then his expression changed. "And I _suppose_ Speedy's been living with you while he _recovered_, and he hasn't bothered to move out yet?" His face changed, going from anger to that sly, smug look from earlier, and Horatio blinked. He looked at Speed, who just tilted his head.

"That's correct, Mr. Tambler."

"So, Leon," Speed cut in, "you could say that getting shot was the best thing that ever happened to me."

Something crossed Horatio's face, something that wasn't humor. For just a split second, Speed saw a man in the grip of desperate sorrow, staring at him. Then the mask slipped back into place and Horatio chuckled. "I suppose I can see how you could see it that way, Speed."

Leon was finally persuaded to finish taking Speed's measurements, but unlike the previous time, he didn't ask Horatio's opinion. Apparently he already had some ideas for Speed's suit, and Horatio wasn't about to get in his way. As Speed dressed himself, Leon finished scribbling down some more notes, and flipped his book closed. "_Gentlemen_, I can have them ready in a few hours."

"Hours?" Speed's muffled voice came from inside his shirt, and his head finally popped out. "Leon, that's a rush job even for you."

Leon waved it away dismissively. "We've got a new sewing machine, and I have a couple of aspiring apprentices working part-time for me."

"And they never come out of the back room, huh?" Speed gave Leon a knowing grin, but the tailor refused to take the bait.

"They never see the clients. And if I ever find any evidence that they've been getting down _on the clock_, they're fired _and_ blacklisted."

Horatio blinked. "Evidence?"

Leon winked at him. "Speedy and I have learned things from each other. _I_ started to teach him about fabric, and _he_ introduced me to black lights."

Horatio shot a look at Speed, who looked innocently back. "What? It's not like it's a trade secret or anything. Just an exchange of information."

Horatio just shook his head and smiled as he finished redressing himself. When they were all decent, they wandered out into the main room. "I'm paying, Leon," Speed said firmly. Leon arched his brow, flicked his eyes between them, and scribbled something else in his little book, then tore it out and instructed him to give it to Miranda, the girl at the front counter.

While Speed was paying, Horatio hung back to talk to Speed's old friend. "So, how well do you know Speed?" he asked softly.

Leon shrugged. "I've known Speedy a while. He's a sweetie, and really smart, but sometimes he gets a little too _intense_, if you know what I mean."

Horatio had an idea. Speed had a fairly laid-back personality, and more than once he'd reprimanded his not-quite-lover-at-that-time about his dress code, but Speed had never listened. He figured that he'd let the brunette get away with it because of his entirely professional and incredibly tidy work ethic. Even Horatio had to shrug and say _What the hell_ every now and then.

But there were times where Speed gave something his attention so completely that he tended to tune out everything else… kinda like when they went clubbing.

"It reminds me of you," Leon continued. "You look like you just get so focused sometimes, you ignore the rest of the world." He paused, and looked the redhead up and down as though seeing him for the first time. Something changed in his demeanor, and suddenly it occurred to Horatio that Leon was quite a bit smarter than he let on. "He really loves you, you know."

Horatio nodded, a little embarrassed at the sudden revelation. Leon gave him a disarming smile. "I won't say anything to anyone else, which is probably why Speedy brought you here in the first place. I'm like an honorary big brother, since I was the first person in Miami to know that he liked men, and I introduced him to a few. He wanted to bring you by so I could meet you."

Horatio ducked his head. "And let you know that he finally caught the big fish?"

Leon snorted. "So I could finally see the look on his face whenever he looked at you. That look lets me know that I did what I set out to do, which was find a man that made him happy." He looked at the redhead sternly, unafraid. "You break his heart, and I will _find_ you."

Horatio looked at him with absolute seriousness. "Mr. Tambler, Speed has my complete attention, I assure you."

Leon smirked. "Good." The mask slipped back into place, and Leon was his energetic, too-friendly self again. "Want to get him a present, since he's getting you one? I know just the thing…"

"So, we've got a couple of hours until Leon says the suits will be ready," Speed said as the exited the shop. "What do you want to do until then?"

Horatio shrugged. "Why don't we get something to eat? And I'm buying."

Speed returned the shrug. "I know a place a couple of blocks up the street. Quiet, good food."

"Sounds good. Lead the way."

They strolled casually up the street, watching life go by. Horatio found himself possessed by an overwhelming urge to hold his lover's hand, but he forced it back down. It hurt, it truly did, to have to deny himself contact with Speed while they were in public.

Thankfully the walk was not a long one, and they soon arrived at the quaint little restaurant. It was a locally owned place that specialized in Italian food—Speed's favorite—and Horatio held the door open as they entered. Inside, it was busy but not annoyingly so, their presence noticed but able to avoid scrutiny by the bustling early-supper crowd.

They were approached by the waitress, who gave a friendly smile as she led them to a booth near the back, the table covered by a red-and-white checkered cloth. They sat across from each other, and she handed them their menus as Horatio ordered a wine and Speed requested a soda. One of them had to drive home, after all, and Horatio was staunchly opposed to drunk driving. She left and returned with their drinks, giving them time to order before disappearing amongst the occupied tables.

"So, how did you meet Leon?" Horatio asked casually, sipping his wine.

Speed gave him a look. "I know what you're thinking, H. I met Leon when I first moved to Miami. He was one of the first people in this city that I told that I didn't like girls." He took a sip of his own drink. "We went out a couple of times—and yes, we slept together, before you ask—but I think it was more his way of just reassuring me that I wasn't alone."

"How do you mean?"

"It's like…" Speed furrowed his brow, thinking. "It's like, Leon's the type of guy that has someone that he's really in love with, but he's also kinda like a mentor to guys still in the closet. He lets 'em know that it's okay to like guys, and a lot of times he'll end up setting up dates between clients."

Horatio took the news calmly. "Does his boyfriend mind that he does this?"

Speed smiled. "They're partners, actually. I attended the ceremony. It's not a legal marriage, but it's still a public declaration. And by the way, his partner is one of his 'success stories.'"

Horatio smiled at that. "So who did he end up setting you up with?"

Speed shrugged. "A couple of casual dates, but nothing that really lasted. It wasn't until I started working at the crime lab that he noticed I didn't have much interest in dating anymore, and he asked me why. And you know what I said?"

Horatio had a feeling that he knew what was coming, but he still wanted to hear it. "What did you say?"

Tim's smile was wistful, his eyes far away. "I said that I had a hopeless crush on my boss."

Horatio smiled and ducked his head. "That's sweet, Speed, but don't tell me that you remained celibate until the first time we slept together."

Speed made a what-do-you-take-me-for face. "Of course not. I still went on a few dates that Leon set me up with, and a couple that I got on my own, but I was never really into them."

Something clicked in Horatio's mind, and he chuckled. "So that explains the remark that Leon made, about you and older redheads."

Speed's ears started to turn red. "You managed to catch that one, huh?"

They were pleasantly interrupted by the return of the waitress, who took their orders and whisked their menus away. They filled the wait time with idle chatter, trying to avoid staring at each other too much. It was difficult, being seated across a table from someone that you couldn't wait to get your hands on. Speed tried not to think about it; it was making him hard again, and they were in public.

Roughly an hour and a half later—they'd taken their time eating, and even ordered a bit of light desert—they made the short trip back to Leon's. To their surprise, he'd completed their order in record time, and couldn't keep the smug look off his face as he handed each of them a bundle of garments on hangers that were obscured by opaque dry-cleaning bags. He led them to the back again, to a pair of adjoining fitting rooms, demanding that they try them on. The lovers looked at each other with raised eyebrows, deciding to humor him.

Horatio shucked off his jeans and sneakers and set them aside, then pulled off his jacket and yanked his t-shirt over his head. Nearly naked, he lifted the bag carefully away from its contents and managed to restrain an appreciative whistle. This was definitely _quality_ merchandise.

His suit was a dark charcoal color, thankfully not the silk or satin that Speed and Leon had been discussing. No, the lining was satin, a dark red color. His shirt was a brilliant blue that managed to match his eyes perfectly. All in all, it looked a lot like what he usually wore.

It wasn't the colors that made the suit interesting, it was the fit. It was _made_ for him, and it perfectly accentuated the slim shoulders and narrow hips. It didn't hug his ass too much, for which he was grateful; he could still wear it in public. Horatio was amused to note that it fit his crotch perfectly, too.

Horatio lifted his voice slightly, feeling slightly absurd at how loud it seemed when muffled only by the curtain. "Leon, I've gotten mine on."

"Me, too," Speed seconded.

Leon looked between the two curtains and couldn't contain his grin. "Okay!" he said gleefully, clapping his hands together, and the two men slid open their respective booths and stepped out. Upon finally seeing each other, they halted.

"Wow."

It was impossible to know which of them said it, or if they both had. Both of them took on a slack-jawed, slightly glassy-eyed look as they drank in the sight of each other.

Speed's suit was something else: a light, tawny color that reminded him of the fur on a golden retriever dog, and cut more in the manner of a three-piece suit. The shirt to go with it was white, and Speed couldn't hold back a grin as Horatio took in the sight of his lover's shirt buttoned almost all the way to the collar, leaving the top two undone. Almost as an afterthought, he'd buttoned only the top two on his suit jacket, letting the rest of it flap loosely around his hips. The jacket was long enough to cover his ass almost completely, which was a good thing: Leon had made the fucker pretty damn tight in that area. Not exactly thread-popping tight, but close.

"Leon, it's perfect," Speed whispered.

"Agreed," Horatio whispered back, unable to tear his eyes from the younger man.

Leon actually giggled. "Mission accomplished," he cooed at the two of them. "Now, you two go have a nice night," he said smugly, making shooing motions as they gathered their street clothes and headed out of the shop.

Horatio and Speed could barely keep their eyes off each other on the way home. It was amazing, the effect of well-fitting clothing on bodies that they knew so well. Once inside the house, Horatio barely paused long enough to lock the door before they dropped the bags with their street clothes and found their way into each other's arms. They'd learned things about each other today, and it just felt right to be so near each other, for both to truly appreciate the man of his dreams.

A slow urge had been building within Horatio ever since his private talk with Leon, and now he knew what he wanted to do. He wanted to show Speed just how valued he really was. And so there they were in the foyer of their house, lips locked and their hearts blazing with passion.

Finally Speed broke apart with a gasp. "Wanna go to the couch and make out like teenagers?" he asked with a sultry smile.

Horatio surprised him by shaking his head. "No."

Speed's eyes started to pout. "No? What do you mean, no?"

"I don't want to just make out, Speed. I want to make love to you. In _our_ house." Horatio's eyes held an intensity, a light in them that Speed had only seen once: the same look that had been there when the redhead had invited Speed to move in, and reassured the younger man when he'd started protesting. The look said 'you're beautiful, I want to protect you, and I love you.'

Speed swallowed, eyes stinging with unexpected tears. "I'd like that, H. I'd like it a lot."

Horatio held out his hand, and Speed took it. Somehow their eyes never left each other as they made their way through the living room and up the stairs. It wasn't until they reached the master bedroom, with the door closed, that they broke contact. Horatio opened the door and showed Speed inside, one hand on his lover's lower back. The hand stayed as the redhead closed the door behind him, and Speed turned to face him.

They moved close enough that their lips brushed, and the soft contact sent an electric tingle straight down to Speed's toes. Arms slid around waists, up backs, worshipping and caressing as Speed pressed himself more fully against his lover's chest, savoring everything. The smell, the feel, it was all Horatio, all the one he loved with every fiber of his being.

Speed lifted one hand to rest gently behind Horatio's head, threading his fingers in the soft copper locks. Horatio gave a soft growl as Speed's fingers brushed the so-sensitive skin on the back of his neck and he opened his mouth slightly, his tongue running slowly on Speed's lips. Speed opened his own mouth just a little, enough for the older man's tongue to slip inside. Horatio tilted his head for a better angle, his tongue exploring his lover's mouth, and Speed gave a quiet moan and allowed himself to be so lovingly conquered by the sensations coursing through him.

Finally they broke apart, and Horatio indicated to the younger man that he should stand still as the redhead took a step back, slipping Speed's sport coat lovingly off slim shoulders and laying it carefully on the cushions. The shirt was next, Horatio paying special attention to every button.

Speed just stood there and basked in the attention, at being the subject of the older man's considerable mental focus. Horatio undressed him slowly, tenderly, as though unwrapping a gift from a dear friend. And in a way, he was. Speed lifted his arms so Horatio could slide the undershirt over the younger man's head, revealing the dark curls covering a surprisingly muscular torso. Speed wasn't what one would consider 'buff' by any accounts, but he was no couch potato, either. Speed referred to his slightly pauchy belly as his 'padding.' It made Horatio smile as he sank slowly to his knees, bending to untie his lover's shoes.

Horatio moved slowly and deliberately, undressing his lover, his Speed, until the younger man stood completely naked. When he was so, Horatio stood and kissed him again, and there was considerably more passion in Speed's response. "I love you, Timothy."

Speed blinked suspiciously gleaming eyes. "Love you, too, Horatio." Like the look in the redhead's eyes, this was the only time that Horatio had ever called him Timothy, and it made Speed's heart leap. Slowly he repaid the favor, undressing Horatio and laying the clothing carefully aside.

It was when they stood, clad only in the scent of each other, that Horatio held up a finger. "Just a moment, there was something I wanted to do."

He stepped away from the brown-eyed man, fishing in his coat pocket for something. Finding the small box, he turned back to his lover. "Leon suggested these, while you were picking up the suits." He opened the box. Inside were two identical silver rings, each with a thick leather cord looped around the steel. "One is sized for me, Speed, and one is sized for you." He inserted a finger into the smaller of the two, lifting it out of the box. Inscribed on the inside of each were their names. "This is the one sized for me," he explained, closing the box and setting it aside, lifting it to slip it over his lover's neck.

Speed blinked and cleared his throat. "H… thank you." He eyed the ring for a moment, and reached for the box. He didn't have Horatio's occasional flair for the dramatic, so he simply lifted it over his lover's head and made sure it was carefully centered amongst the red curls on Horatio's chest. "I guess this one is yours."

Horatio gave him tender look as they embraced again, running worshipping hands along naked flesh. Finally Speed gave a tug toward the bed, and Horatio smiled into the kiss as they managed to make their way to it, still firmly attached. Finally they reached it, and Speed let himself fall backward onto the mattress, Horatio right on top of him. They shimmied further up the mattress until Horatio could slide a pillow under the younger man's head, stroking his hair and staring into his eyes. The look was beginning to make Speed blush until Horatio lowered his head, running kisses along the stubbled jaw, down his windpipe, making a little trail of cool amidst the heat they were both creating.

His tongue forged a path through the forest of dark hairs on the younger man's chest until he stumbled upon a nipple, and he pressed his lips against it, sucking softly, making the brunette squirm and sigh. He bathed it in attention, licking and kissing it, finally leaving it alone to run his tongue up the crease between Speed's pectorals until he reached the dip in the collarbone, right below the windpipe. He pressed his lips softly to the vulnerable skin before retracing his path back down the younger man's chest, changing directions to locate the other nipple, and Speed hissed and squirmed some more.

Speed spread his legs invitingly, and Horatio gave a silent chuckle as he lowered himself until he was resting comfortably, abandoning the nipple and licking down his lover's chest even as his slim hands found both hardened buds and massaged them softly. Speed writhed and moaned as Horatio slid down, his tongue finding the younger man's navel, rimming the tiny orifice.

Speed's hands reached for him, trying to tug him back up, but Horatio shrugged gently out of the grip. "Just stay there, Speed," he murmured enticingly.

Speed's hands flopped back onto the covers. "Well, I can't just lay here," he whined.

"Sure you can," Horatio affirmed as he felt the tip of Speed's erect cock nudge his chin, and he lowered his head to give it a gentle lick, and Speed moaned again. Horatio pressed his lips against the head, his tongue finding a tiny glistening drop of precome, and he lapped it up eagerly, tonguing the slit in the hopes of finding more. Speed made a warbling noise as Horatio sucked him farther in, the head sliding past the redhead's teeth and finding a wonderful haven in Horatio's warm, wet mouth.

Speed was in heaven as Horatio bathed his cock with his tongue, finding all the places that made the younger man's toes curl. He looked up and saw the blue eyes bobbing over his erection as Horatio took him lower and lower, until the redhead had to consciously close the epiglottal valve over his brachial tube, opening all the right passageways as he welcomed Speed so far into his throat that the younger man could feel his cock bending slightly. He froze, pleasure overloading all other nerve centers in the brain, before Horatio slid back and released him with a gasp.

"Jesus, H, that was great," Speed panted. Horatio could only flick his eyes up at his lover and run his tongue in broad streaks up the brunette's straining member, having found the intense pleasure that came from going down on the younger man. He wrapped his hand around Speed's length and buried his nose in the lightly furred sac at the base of his lover's cock.

Horatio cupped his hands under Speed's ass and raised it slightly, sucking both of the soft orbs into his mouth, and Speed groaned and shifted, planting his feet on the mattress and lifting a bit higher into the air. Horatio took the hint and released his lover's sac with a gentle sucking noise, pausing to tug gently on the sac with his teeth before running his tongue underneath it. Speed made a definite whimpering noise as Horatio ran a teasing tongue over his perineum, the younger man's fists balling up in the sheets. And Horatio went lower.

Speed raised an eyebrow, centering more of his weight on his upper back as Horatio continued to fold him up, supporting his ass with both hands as his rear was literally lifted into the air. Speed hooked his legs over his lover's shoulders for support, his cock jutting up toward the ceiling. Suddenly he hissed and gave a loud, unashamed moan as Horatio's tongue found his entrance.

Horatio reveled in the flavors that he found there; sweat, semen, a bit of himself, and the heavy, musky male smell, all of it covered with _Speed's smell_ and it triggered sensations in Horatio's brain that could only comprehend companionship, love, and lust. He buried his face between his lover's legs, seeking more of that exquisite aroma, and Speed bunched his fists in the covers and howled.

"Easy, Speed," Horatio murmured loud enough for the younger man to hear. He leaned back carefully, his hands sliding Speed's legs off his shoulders and letting them lower slowly back to the bed. "I want this to last."

"H, please…"

"Shhhh…" Horatio's face was gentle as he knelt between his lover's legs, letting a finger run slowly up the younger man's straining cock. "Just enjoy it. We have all the time in the world."

"H," Speed groaned. "You know foreplay drives me insane."

"But I like foreplay," Horatio insisted, bringing a finger to his mouth to wet it, and the sight made Speed groan again.

"Fuck the foreplay, H. Fuck me instead!"

Horatio chuckled at his eager, needing lover. "Hush, Speed, you'll ruin the moment." His now-wet finger lowered slowly to Speed's entrance, and Horatio toyed with the tight ring of muscle as he used his other hand to brace himself to hover over the younger man, their faces inches apart. "I want to take my time loving you tonight. Please?"

Speed sighed, the expression on his face softening as he took in the calm sincerity of the older man's face. "All right, H. Love me, then."

"Thank you," the redhead whispered as he ducked down for a sweet, simple kiss. Rising, he started to reach for the nightstand and the lube when Speed tapped the bottle against his shoulder. Horatio smiled and shook his head, stealing another quick taste of his lover's lips even as he grasped the bottle. "One of these days, you'll appreciate going slow."

Speed snorted, but the noise quickly became a strained sigh as Horatio's finger pressed more firmly against his entrance. "H, don't tease me," he pleaded softly.

Horatio drew the finger away, fiddling with the cap on the bottle. "Never crossed my mind." He finally managed to flip the top, his hands trembling with… excitement? Lust? No, _love_. All the time Speed had lived here, they had fucked fast, fucked faster, hard, dirty, and occasionally tenderly, but he couldn't _once_ remember just going slow and paying attention to his partner. And that's what they were, he reasoned as he coated his fingers with the slick substance. Lovers. Partners. He closed his eyes at the sudden burst of sorrow and longing that came from thinking of Leon and his public relationship with Jeremiah.

"H?"

Horatio looked up, seeing Speed staring at him with a curious, tender expression. "You okay, H? You were someplace else for a little bit, and you didn't look happy."

"I'm fine," Horatio said smoothly, tossing his regrets to the back burner. All that mattered was being here, now, with Speed, and letting the younger man know just how much he was appreciated. Loved.

Speed saw through it, as he always did, but he said nothing as Horatio's slick finger nudged at his entrance again. His face changed to one of intense lust as a single digit slid slowly in, pumping a little, twisting and searching for that one special spot.

He found it, and Speed jerked and moaned. "God, H, feels so fucking good," he panted, spreading his legs farther and consciously relaxing the guardian muscle, begging silently for another finger. Horatio gave it to him, pumping slowly and twisting, scissoring gently, doing his best to avoid breaking the skin and thus needing a condom. He wanted Speed to feel him.

He fucked Speed slowly with his fingers, only brushing the prostate occasionally, driving his lover wild with the pleasure of penetration and the anticipation of things to cum.

"H… oh, God… so good…" Speed moaned as Horatio worked a third finger inside. He brushed the younger man's prostate again, and Speed's face became a mask of ecstasy. "God, H… get inside me, please?"

"All right, all right," Horatio said soothingly as he withdrew his hand, earning him an outright whine. "Calm down, Speed. I'm just getting ready, all right?"

"H, I need you… fuck, I need you right now."

Horatio's face took on a vulnerability that Speed had never seen before as he stared at his younger lover, absently slicking up his length. "I've always needed you, Speed," he whispered softly. The emotion broke through Speed's cloud of lust, and unexpected tears came to the warm brown eyes as Horatio knelt between his love's legs, positioning himself at Speed's entrance. "I'm sorry it took me so long to realize it," he continued in a murmur that Speed could barely hear.

There was nothing that Speed could think of to say, so he simply opened himself to his lover, watching him with glittering eyes as Horatio began to push. Small moans and jerks accompanied every inch that Horatio slid into the younger man, until they were joined as closely as human physiology would allow. Horatio lowered himself onto Speed's body, savoring the feeling of wholeness, of completeness, and Speed reached his arms up to wrap his lover in a crushing embrace. "Love you, H," Speed whispered into the redhead's ear.

Horatio basked in the embrace for a moment, lifting his head for another soft, sweet kiss. "H?"

"Hmm?"

"Move, please? I want to feel you."

Horatio rose to his knees, his hands on the mattress on either side of the younger man's hips. "And how do you want me to move, Speed?" he asked softly, drawing slowly out and slowly back in.

"Just like that," Speed replied quickly, surprising him. "I want you hard, H, but go slow. Please?"

And so Horatio went slow as he made gentle love to Speed, delighting in every tiny blessing of friction between them. He stroked his lover's insides tenderly, worshipping the incredible warmth that gave him so much pleasure, so often. For his part, Speed was used to a harder fucking, so the notion of making love was rather unfamiliar to him. He could indeed get used to this happening every once in a while, being the object of such blazing affection in Horatio's crystal blue eyes.

Speed recognized the act for what it was, so he made a conscious effort to raise his arms to rest his head on interlaced fingers, giving Horatio full access to his body. "H… touch me, please?"

"Where would you like me to touch you?" the redhead replied in that soothing tone.

"Anywhere. Everywhere." There was something of a sheepish smile on his face. "You're right, I like this. Love this. God, you feel so good in me…"

Horatio smiled as he braced one hand on the mattress, his hips rocking in a smooth, steady rhythm as he slid a hand up Speed's belly, threading his fingers in the tangled curls on his chest, sliding the hand over a shoulder. He caressed his lover's body as he would stroke a cat, petting here and scratching gently there, sitting back on his heels with Speed's legs wrapped around him so he could use both hands to whisper the pads of his thumbs over the younger man's hardened nipples, and Speed moaned at the contact.

"So good, H… fuck, that feels so good," Speed whimpered. He clamped his insides around his lover, and Horatio had to fight down the urge to let loose and pound the younger man's brains out. He maintained control and kept up his slow, steady pace.

"That's it, Speed," Horatio encouraged. "Let me know how good it feels." He grasped Speed's knees as he sat back on his heels, the delicious friction centered mostly on his lover's prostate, and Speed jerked and groaned.

"Fuck, H…" Speed moaned, his head lolling. He squeezed Horatio again, a sure sign that he was nearing completion, and Horatio bit his lip as he stroked the younger man's depths.

"Are you close?" Horatio whispered.

"Close," Speed whimpered back. "So good…"

Horatio changed position to wrap Speed's legs around him again. He bent down until their chests nearly touched, finding his favorite spot on Speed's unshaven neck to plant his lips on the flesh that was slick with sweat and hot with the fires of lust. He pressed his thin lips firmly to the surprisingly soft skin, marking his lover, taking the flesh gently into his mouth and bruising it with love.

Speed made a loud humming noise in his throat as one hand threaded fingers through Horatio's hair, the other making desperate scratches up and down the redhead's back. "God, H, touch me… please…"

Horatio didn't answer, but lowered one hand to brush fingers against Speed's rigid length, rubbing his thumb across the head and collecting the drops of precome. He lifted his hand back to his lover's face, and Speed took the fingers in his mouth desperately, tasting himself, wanting more. When the fingers were clean, Horatio moved his hand back to his lover's cock and stroked it slowly, gently, in time with his steady thrusts into the younger man's depths.

"H," Speed moaned, "Oh God, H, I'm gonna… I'm…"

"Come for me, Speed," Horatio urged, pulling back to stare into his lover's eyes. "I love you, Speed. Come!"

Speed's entire body went rigid, and he gripped Horatio's shoulders with bruising force. His head jerked back, eyes rolling, and his toes curled and a high keening noise tore itself from his throat as he came around his lover, cock throbbing and shooting milky white streamers up his chest and on Horatio's hand. Horatio stared at him, memorizing every movement as Speed jerked and twitched underneath him, babbling incoherently.

Buried as far inside the brunette's body as he could go, Horatio simply waited until Speed came back to himself. "Oh, God, H, that was incredible," the younger man panted. "God, I love you."

Horatio lowered his head for a kiss, which Speed returned passionately. It didn't last long, though, as Speed was short on air to begin with. "Aren't you gonna come, H?"

Horatio nodded and bent down to nibble on his lover's neck again. "I am… I just wanted to see that, first." He sighed and pressed his lips to the Adam's apple. "I wish I could stay here forever."

"Me, too," Speed whispered, his hands finding Horatio's head and running fingers through the flame-red locks. "Come in me, H. Please?"

Horatio didn't answer, he just started moving again. He rose off his lover's chest to hover over his face. Staring into those crystal blue eyes, Speed read the range of emotions and reactions; the twitches of the mouth and eyebrows, the strain on the forehead, the pure love radiating from those eyes. Slowly at first, Horatio moved in and out of him. Speed fought to keep his eyes open, locking gazes with his lover as Horatio moved faster and faster, giving in to his passion and pounding into the dark heat that stroked him, milked him, welcomed him, loved him.

Horatio's mouth opened to deliver extra oxygen as he slammed into his love, his Speed, and suddenly his face tightened and his eyes closed and he sucked in his breath as he came, burying himself to the hilt as his length twitched and released strands of his seed, coating Speed's inner walls with himself, marking him. His arms trembled as he hovered over his lover, gasping, twitching with every delicious shudder of his own orgasm until he finally lowered himself into Speed's welcoming embrace before he collapsed.

"I love you, H," Speed said again as he wrapped his arms around his older lover, placing a kiss on the damp red hair.

"Love you, too, Speed," Horatio whispered as he finally came back to himself. He rose to his knees and pulled out his dripping cock, snorting at the sticky warmth that clung to his chest.

Speed grinned at him. "I got you all messy."

"That you did," Horatio murmured with a smile. He leaned down to run an eager tongue over his lover's midsection, cleaning him, and Speed gave a soft smile as he happily ate up the attention.

When it was all up, he started to rise and search for a wash towel when Speed twisted up and tipped him onto his side, then his back. "My turn," the younger man insisted simply, bending to lick his lover's chest clean. "I can't let you have all the fun."

Horatio didn't have the strength to argue as Speed bathed his spent cock in the soft warmth of his tongue. When he was declared clean, Speed laid back down. "Now you can get a towel, before I start dripping all over the bed."

Horatio chuckled and swung his legs over the side of the bed, staggering for the bathroom. When he came back, Speed reached for the towel and slid it underneath his slick rear, wiping carefully. Having gotten as much as he could, he handed it back to his older lover without a word, and Horatio took it back to the bathroom to drop it in the hamper before pausing to use the bathroom.

Padding back to the bed, he saw that Speed had scooted over to his usual side, patting the sheets next to him. Horatio found the suggestion to be an agreeable one and sank down, letting the younger man cover him as he pulled himself into a snuggle, laying his head on the dark-haired chest.

"Thanks, H," Speed whispered drowsily.

"Thank you," Horatio replied, wrapping his arms around the younger man's midsection for a hug as an unwelcome memory flitted across his mind. He shook his head slightly as if to banish it.

Speed noticed, of course. "Something wrong?"

Horatio sighed. "No," he fibbed quietly.

He couldn't hide anything from Speed; he should know that by now. "Come on, H, tell me." Horatio sighed again as he complied.

"Leon, today… he…" Horatio paused, and swallowed. "He reminded me of something. It was a recurring nightmare that I had for two weeks, following the shooting."

Speed saw his mistake. "H, don't. Let it rest."

"No, no, I need to get it out. I need…" Horatio grasped his lover tight, laying his head on Speed's left side, reassured by the heartbeat. "Speed, in my dream, I saw you go down, and you…"

Speed wrapped his arms around the older man more tightly, stroking the soft copper hair. "What did you see, H?"

Horatio swallowed. "I saw you go down, and you didn't get back up."

Speed pressed his lips to the head that lay on his chest. "Did you die, too?"

"No, and that's the worst part of it. I lived. I had to… to process your body." His blue eyes stared at nothing, the nightmare coming back. "I watched Alexx do your autopsy. I cleaned out your locker. I went to your funeral. And… I had to keep on going." His voice cracked, and he closed his eyes tight, squeezing his lover almost painfully. "Without you."

"I'm right here, H," Speed whispered reassuringly, returning the embrace. "I'm right here, I didn't go anywhere. You told me not to, remember?"

The redhead cleared his throat. "You can remember that?"

"Uh-huh. You keep saying that I saved your life… but don't forget, you saved mine, too."

Horatio's only answer was a sigh, and a slight lessening of his grip on Speed. They lay there for some time, thinking, holding each other.

"Hey, H?"

"Hmm?"

"When did it stop? The nightmare, I mean."

When had it stopped, indeed? Those two weeks had been hell, but one night he'd just gone to sleep, and he hadn't dreamed a thing. That night, it was—

He had it. "Speed, that was the day I brought you home. That night was the first, since the shooting, that I didn't have that dream."

"And you haven't had it since?"

Horatio squeezed him again. "Not since then."

Speed squeezed him back, releasing him so one arm could casually stroke his shoulder. "I'm right here, H," he repeated softly. "Let's go to sleep, okay?"

"Okay."

Speed shifted, getting more comfortable. "Good night, H."

"Good night, Speed."

Even Horatio, the master of self-control, had a hard time keeping the smile off his face at work the next day. He was entirely focused at the crime scenes, of course, but every once in a while his eyes would go far away, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his lips. It was one such time that he was alone in Autopsy, waiting on Alexx to come in and open a drawer for his study, when the woman in question caught him.

"Well, good _morning_, Horatio." Alexx looked at him with a mix of amusement, surprise, and… pride? "If I didn't know any better, I'd say that you had a very nice night. Little champagne, some soft music, candles?" She winked. "Tall, dark, and in serious need of a shave?"

Horatio ducked his head. "That obvious, hmm?"

She smiled. "Honey, it's nothing to be ashamed of. You and Timmy are good together."

He lifted his head and smiled back at her, a pure and unguarded smile of true friendship. "Thank you, Alexx. It's been a long time coming, I know. But you're right. Like you always are."

Calleigh came strolling in. She took a single look at her colleagues' faces and knew that something was up. "What'd I miss?"

Alexx turned to the blonde. "Horatio's finally admitted that he's in love," she said softly and seriously, and Horatio ducked his head again, the tips of his ears noticeably changing color.

Calleigh tilted her head and smiled at him. "It's about time." She walked up to him and gave him a friendly squeeze on the arm. "I'm happy for you."

"Thank you," he whispered.

The two women waited until he'd gotten himself under control. "So," Calleigh began, "are you two going to go public?"

Horatio sighed. "I want to, Calleigh. I really, truly do. But you know what would happen if I did."

Alexx clicked her tongue and rubbed his shoulder. "_We_ know, Horatio. Maybe it'll be enough to get you through it."

"I know, Alexx, and I appreciate it. I just…" he stopped, uncharacteristically frustrated. "I wish I could tell everyone."

Calleigh gave a knowing smile. "Somehow I don't see you as the 'shouting from the rooftops' type."

He couldn't help a snort at that one. "You'd be right about that. Speed would probably trail a banner from his motorcycle."

Calleigh grinned. "I can see it now, 'HC + TS,' down Ocean Drive in the middle of the afternoon."

Alexx laughed. They shared the moment for a while, before Horatio coughed. "By the way, he says that I need to invite the two of you over for dinner sometime, now that he's gotten some of the use of his arm back."

"I was wondering when that was going to happen," Alexx murmured with just a hint of disproval, and Horatio ducked his head again.

"We've been… sorting things out. Not fighting, more like…" he paused, searching for the words. "More like _realizing_ what had been staring me in the face this whole time."

"That's love for you," Alexx smiled tenderly. "Sometimes it takes a while, and sometimes it sneaks up on you."

"And sometimes you're just too blind to see that it was there all along," Calleigh concluded with mock-sternness, pinching his arm.

"Guilty as charged. Now, before you two ladies start arranging anything, I'd like to get to the matter at hand," Horatio said firmly. "I believe there's a young lady in this drawer that needs our help."

The two women rolled their eyes at each other. "Men," Alexx sighed.

"Can't live with 'em, can't live without 'em," Calleigh grinned back.

Horatio ducked head again, hearing their banter but not really seeing it. Fixed prominently in his mind was an image he'd never get tired of seeing, one of Speed, tangled in Horatio's bedsheets, staring at him with eyes full of love.

"Hey, handsome," Calleigh's voice cut in, and he blinked. "Earth to Horatio. Jeez, you've got it _bad_."

"Maybe you should take the day off," Alexx suggested half-seriously. "I'll say that you're sick."

"I don't think lovesick is an excusable illness," Calleigh pointed out.

"True," Alexx said with a nod. "But he's fatigued, has difficulty concentrating, abnormal heart rate, and a fever if his ears are any indication."

Calleigh turned to him. "Maybe you need a little more protein in your diet."

"Ladies, _please_," Horatio sputtered, his face starting to match his hair. "I'm fine. And we have a case to work."

Calleigh and Alexx looked at each other, and the blonde winked at him. "Whatever you say, boss."

Horatio managed to concentrate after that, but during the quiet moments that image returned to him, haunting him in the best way possible. It was the first time in a very long time, he realized, that he simply couldn't wait to get home, and it made him smile.

Home, to Speed.

5 ½ MONTHS AFTER SHOOTING

Speed felt the front door slam more than heard it, and he turned down the music in his room. Opening the door and stepping out into the hallway, he could hear Horatio roughly stuffing his gun into the gun safe and dropping his keys on the entrance table, growling all the while.

Padding carefully down the steps, Speed's ears caught a name that sounded like "Clavo," and he stopped. That could only mean one thing: Horatio's arrogant, wannabe nemesis had apparently made a comeback. Clavo Cruz, the next young prince of Baracas, and an egotistical bastard that loved his diplomatic immunity so much that he deliberately broke laws with the express purpose of making Horatio steam.

"H?" he called softly, hoping to distract his lover's seething rage. To hear Horatio being so rough with his weapon, to hear that much cursing spilling from the redhead's lips, was the equivalent of less-sturdy men screaming and throwing furniture.

"Speed." Horatio acknowledged him flatly, without the slightest hint of feeling. If he let one emotion out, he'd have to let them _all_ out, and that could be bad. He paced around the living room with his hands on his hips, looking for all the world to Speed like an angry lion, stalking past the bars of its cage in an endless prowl, searching for a way to get to the other side so it could go on a rampage and maul all the bystanders.

Speed stood there quietly, his hand still on the railing of the stairs. "You want to talk about it?"

Horatio halted, glaring at nothing. "No."

The younger man stared at him, hiding his hurt. "Fine. Don't shoot the messenger," he grumbled with just the right amount of edge, and it worked.

"Wait. Speed… I'm sorry, it's just…" Horatio tilted his head to one side and the other, little cracks sounding up and down his neck.

"Just what?" Speed asked calmly.

Horatio paused. "Clavo Cruz," he spat, as though the name was a curse.

So Speed had heard correctly. He finished his slow walk to his lover, laying gentle hands on his shoulders. "Sit down, H, you're wearing tracks in the carpet. Sit down, tell me about it."

Horatio sighed and allowed the younger man to lead him to the couch, sliding his coat off his shoulders and laying it over the armrest. Speed settled down on the seat next to him, reaching across his shoulders and working his hands across the too-tense muscles. His right hand was noticeably weaker than his left, but Horatio didn't complain. He simply closed his eyes and allowed his lover's calm and sturdy affection to wear down his stress.

Speed finally spoke. "So… Clavo?"

The knots threatened to return to Horatio's shoulders, but Speed continued to rub them away. "I got him, Speed," Horatio said softly.

"You what?"

"I got Clavo," Horatio repeated. "He's sitting in lockup right now."

Speed was confused. "That's great, right? You've been after that guy for a while."

Horatio gave a grudging nod. "Yes, but at a cost that I hadn't foreseen. Speed, I tore his family apart."

Speed just waited, one hand sliding from his lover's shoulder to grasp his hand, clasping it tight.

"I took everything away from him," Horatio said quietly, his eyes heavy with his own guilt. "I took his brother away, and now I've destroyed his family. His mother is the only one that stood up for him."

Speed wanted to remind Horatio that the little prick had deserved it, but stopped himself. Family was very important to Horatio, and something that the redhead no longer _had_. Speed didn't know all the details, but he strongly suspected that his lover's last moments with his father had been less than peaceful.

"I had to do a DNA test to confirm it," Horatio continued. "General Cruz is _not_ Clavo's father… and when I confronted him and got him to rescind Clavo's immunity, his wife left him." He gave a heavy sigh, tilting his head toward his lover and feeling Speed tilt his head toward him, their soft hair blending as they rested against each other. "When I told him about his wife's infidelity, I think he gave Clavo up just to punish her."

"H," Speed whispered, squeezing his hand. "Think of how many people you saved, getting that punk behind bars. Miami—hell, the world—is better off with him in a cage. I hate what you had to do to the Cruz family to do it… but think of all the people that'll live longer now that he's off the streets."

Horatio nodded and tried to let Speed's words comfort him. But, try as he might, he couldn't get the image of Dona Cruz out of his mind, with tears slipping down her cheeks as she sat in a yellow taxi, while her husband had started up his Bentley. They may have loved each other, once, and had been a proud and dutiful family. But now, "because of me…"

"Because of _justice_," Speed interrupted. "You did what you had to do."

Horatio gave a world-weary sigh. "Sometimes…" he paused, searching for the words. "Sometimes I get so damn tired of making all these decisions for these people," he finished with a growl, and Speed's eyelids flicked. Obviously the redhead was even more stressed than Speed had previously thought… and only one solution came to mind.

He sat up, dislodging his lover and earning him an irritated grunt in the process, but he ignored it. "Stand up, and get your coat back on," Speed said firmly. "We're going out."

Horatio shot him a Very Patient Look, the one that left Speed under no illusions as to just how much was boiling under Horatio's skin. Speed ignored that, too. "Up. Coat. Now."

Horatio's eyebrows rose _slowly_, which was a definite warning. Speed knew that H would never strike him in anger, but it was still no mean feat to hold his ground against that simmering glare.

But Horatio wasn't the one in control right now. At least, he hadn't figured it out yet.

Speed stood, turned, and planted his hands on either side of his lover's hips, their faces nearly touching. "Are you going to make me repeat myself… Cain?"

Horatio blinked, and sudden understanding hit him. When Speed called him Cain—and he knew that his lover had deliberately left out the E—that could mean only one thing. Horatio allowed his features to soften for a moment, in a look of thanks. He _needed_ this… and he'd had no idea how badly. "No."

"No _what_?"

Horatio swallowed and lowered his eyes. "No, I'm not going to make you repeat yourself, sir." He waited for Speed to move so he could stand and grab his sport coat. They tromped through the living room, Speed at the lead, and they'd reached the door when the redhead paused, hesitant. Speed turned.

"Horatio?"

That was Speed's way of making sure that Horatio wanted it… and he was surprised how much he really did. He'd just said it, hadn't he, that he was tired of making decisions. Let Speed handle him for a while. "I'm coming, sir."

Speed leered at him. "You'd better not be. We haven't even left the house yet."

Horatio risked a chuckle. "I'll try to restrain myself, sir."

"Do that. And hush. Last thing I need is a backseat driver." Which was Speed's rather blunt way of telling the redhead to shut up and give him the keys. Horatio took it in good humor, almost smiling. Odd, how his spirits were starting to lift already.

They were going clubbing at last… and not to just _any_ club. This was Club Deviate, run by a Mistress Pamela. For lack of better terms, it was a refuge from sexual persecution, complete with a wet bar, dance floor, and fully equipped dungeon. Everyone used code names, and everyone wore their sexuality openly and for all to see. Other than his home, it was the only place that Horatio and Speed could let loose and enjoy all those dark, twisted, and slightly insane urges that hit them.

Horatio glanced at his lover, who was focused on the road, but the twitching of the younger man's leg gave his nervousness away. "Speed?"

"Deeps, Cain. Call me Deeps."

Horatio chuckled. "But we're not there yet."

Tim shot him a long-suffering glance. "Can't you see that I'm trying to get you into the mood, here?"

"Sorry." Horatio gave a quick snort of laughter, followed by lots of silence, broken only by a soft sigh. "I wanted to thank you, for doing this tonight."

"It's no problem, H," Speed relented. "I just figured that with all the shit you've been going through lately, it just might be nice for you to let somebody else do all the thinking."

Horatio flicked an eyebrow. "You've been planning this for a while, haven't you?"

"_Fantasizing_."

The redhead thought for a moment. "Should I be worried?"

Speed gave a casual shrug. "No more than you should've been the _last_ time I topped."

Horatio chuckled. "And what'd you do to me?"

"Tied you up, beat you until you were bloody, and fucked your brains out."

"Brains I'm fond of, by the way," Horatio growled without malice.

"Well, obviously they grew back, so it's time for a repeat operation," Speed said with a grin. "I'm a scientist. I'm allowed to run trials until I find a solution that works."

"Too long of a recovery period, probably," Horatio offered, smiling himself.

"Mm-hmm. We'll have to fix that."

Horatio settled back into his seat, letting his lover drive. "That we will, Mr. Deeps."

Speed glanced over at him. "Good boy."

"God, I missed this place," Speed remarked as they climbed out of the vehicle. "I swear, I'm getting hard already just _thinking_ about it."

"Same here," Horatio murmured. The 'club' was a misnomer; it was actually quite a large building, almost a mansion. It sat in an area of Miami that most of the locals liked to quaintly refer to as 'the middle of nowhere,' and for good reason. It was too big, too lewd, and its patrons too high-profile to stay anywhere near the city.

The parking lot was actually a large gravel lot. Due to the frequency of Miami rainfall, Horatio would have to run through a car wash first thing in the morning, but he figured that it would be worth it. Memories were already coming back… dark, beautiful, nasty, loving, and insane memories.

"Has it really been six months since we've been here?" Speed insisted in disbelief as they passed through the heavy oaken door.

"Almost," Horatio confirmed as they caught sight of the bouncer. "Felix!"

The giant turned. He was built much in the manner of an ancient Roman god, complete with Caesar bangs, a square jaw, and muscles everywhere. He wore nothing but brown leather straps crossed in an X across his chest, in the center being a large metal ring. His modesty was protected by what looked appropriately like the sort of armored skirt that ancient Roman centurions had worn. Indeed, give him a crested helmet, a gladius sword, and a bronze breastplate, and he would almost be ready to go to the Coliseum. Around his neck was a studded leather collar with a dog tag hanging from it. The tag read "Felix," with a blue ring around the edges. A larger, hunter's orange tag hung behind it.

Hearing his name, the big man locked eyes on them, and those eyes widened. Felix all but bowed as he spoke. "Master Cain! Mr. Deeps! It is good to see you!"

Horatio nodded in greeting. "Good to see you, too, Felix. It's been quite a while. How have you been?"

"I've been great," Felix responded with a grin, sticking out a big meaty paw for the two men to shake. "And where in the hell have you two been?"

They took no offense. "I got into an accident at work," Speed fibbed. "So, I had to stay at home to recover, and in the meantime I moved in with Cain here."

The giant's eyes widened. "For six months? God_damn!_ What'd you do, blow your arm off?"

"Something like that," Horatio responded with a light smile.

"And he's been living with you this whole time?" Felix continued, his chest shaking with sudden laughter at Speed's cleverness. "Deeps, you smart, sneaky son of a bitch."

"Thanks," Speed said with a grin. "How are you and Jaelix doing?"

"Oh, we're fan-fuckin'-tastic!" the giant smiled happily. Felix and Jaelix were some of the club's part-time bouncers, among other things. They were well known as being an 'open couple,' and both were switches, meaning that they had no problems being on top or on the bottom. They were both men, and both absolutely _huge_. What was interesting about seeing them as a couple was that other than their size, their looks were at completely opposite ends of the spectrum.

Felix looked between the two men, sizing them up. "So, who's in charge tonight?" he asked with a sly grin, and Horatio ducked his head.

Speed stepped forward. "I am. Is the Mistress available?"

Felix tilted his head. "I don't know, sir." He turned to the side, to a young man kneeling almost out of sight. "Syncro, on your feet!" he snapped, and the young slave hopped up immediately, eyes downcast and wearing nothing but short black jogging shorts and a nylon collar, blue ring on the tag. "Syncro, find Mistress Pamela, and tell her that Master Cain and Mr. Deeps are here, but don't interrupt her if she's mid-scene. Go."

The slave spun and darted off without a word. Felix turned back to his guests and hooked a thumb over his shoulder at the already-vanished young sub. "He's new, but he's already settling into the mindset."

Speed gave a one-shoulder shrug out of habit, peering around. "Not much has changed," he noted.

Felix gave a small shake of his head. "Up here, no, but wait until you see downstairs. We've added an entire section to the dungeon. Jaelix is playing Dungeon Monitor by the big racks. Oh, and Tabitha is here, if you're up for a flogging later."

Speed and Horatio traded glances. Jaelix was an excellent Monitor, and they felt quite safe under his supervision. It was an added bonus that Tabitha was here… the club's resident, semi-official Lady of the Whip.

Minutes passed, and then came the sound of bare feet thumping on the carpet; Syncro returning sooner than anticipated. He skidded to a halt in front of Felix, eyes automatically on the floor. "May I, sir?" he asked breathlessly.

"You may," Felix responded.

Eyes still down, Syncro calmly informed the trio that Mistress Pamela was unoccupied and in her office, and that her favored guests were free to join her there once they'd gotten themselves properly attired.

Speed extended his elbow. "Shall we, Cain?"

Horatio nodded and hooked his arm into his lover's. "We shall, sir."

They waved to Felix and rounded the corner to the receptionist's desk, where a middle-aged woman in a skimpy black leather outfit sat applying blood-red nail polish to one slender hand. "Tim Speedle and Horatio Caine," Speed murmured softly. She nodded and punched up some keys on the computer with her dry hand. She nodded at what she saw, wheeled her rolling chair around, and used her key to pop open a small cabinet. She withdrew a small locker key as well as a small plastic basket. Holding the basket out to her customers, Speed and Horatio dumped all contents of all pockets into it, as well as their phones and watches.

Once you entered this building, your outside persona ceased to exist. They were no longer Horatio Caine and Tim Speedle. They were simply Master Cain, bisexual, and Mr. Deeps, homosexual. Another reason for giving up their personal belongings was to prevent theft.

Once they patted their pockets to assure her that nothing was still inside them, she took the basket to a row of lockers in a back room and locked them safely inside. She returned to them with a smile and a nod, handing them their locker key.

They followed the familiar route to the branching hallway, with "Men" and an arrow pointing one way, and a matching "Women" in the other direction. Between the two was a sign that asked patrons to "Please do not engage in sexual activities in the locker rooms. A second set of locker rooms, complete with showers, has been furnished for this purpose in the East Wing. Thank you for your cooperation." The two men exchanged smiles and a shake of the head as they followed the "Men" arrow.

They were the only occupants in the rather large room, its walls lined with tall, foot-and-a-half-wide steel doors, numbered and locked. A row of benches ran through the middle of the room, and at the end of the room was a bank of shower stalls. They found their locker and Horatio inserted their key into the lock.

He pulled clothing and other items out of the locker, handing some of them to his lover. For himself, he preferred a tight-fitting black T-shirt and black leather pants with gleaming metal rivets up the sides, with a red leather belt. What few people realized about the pants was that the reason the back seam between the pockets was so thick was that it concealed a zipper, although that saw admittedly little use. Horatio was usually the top whenever they came here.

Horatio stripped down to nothing and stowed his clothing neatly, and squirmed carefully into the black garments. In the bottom of the locker was a comfortable pair of sandals with nylon straps across the top of the foot and around the ankles, with thick rubber soles. Right above the sandals he attached leather cuffs, also dark red, with metal D-rings at four points. Similar cuffs went on his wrists. He pulled out Speed's ring so that it hung in front of his shirt, and fished around in the locker for his collar.

His collar was a sturdy strip of dark red leather with a small, shining metal buckle. The tag dangling from it said simply 'Cain,' and had a rubber ring around the edges—a dog tag silencer, used primarily by sport-hunters—that had been stained blue on one half and pink on the other, indicating that the wearer was bisexual. On the back of the tag was a sticker with a bar code. With their wallets and keys in the possession of the receptionist, they carried no cash. Any service they wanted that the club needed reimbursement for, all the attendant had to do was scan the barcode, and that service would be put onto their tab to be paid at the end of the evening.

Speed's clothing of choice a pair of tight, hip-hugging jeans with frayed knees that had been obviously patched with thick squares of leather, a soft cotton lining sewn into the denim around the crotch area so he could comfortably go commando, and reinforced belt loops. The pants also had a large split between the back pockets that had been cleverly disguised with Velcro. He wore a heavy leather belt, a tight black leather vest that hung open, and cuffs on both wrists and both ankles that were made of sturdy woven nylon with a silk lining to prevent chafing. The cuffs also had a pair of D-rings for clipping things. Completing the look was a thin leather collar, dyed black, with a tag that read 'Mr. Deeps' and had blue rubber ring.

To complete the outfit, Speed pulled on a pair of sandals similar to Horatio's and attached a small drawstring bag at his left hip that contained a bottle of lube and a string of condoms.

It was such an easy system, Speed thought to himself as he looked at his collar. If your tag ring was blue, you liked men. If your tag ring was pink, you liked women. If your tag ring had both colors, then obviously you played with both genders. It was one of the great things about this place: nobody hid their sexuality here, and nobody was ashamed of it.

Another neat thing were the collars themselves. Not everybody wore actual, buckled _collars_; those tended to stick with the S&M crowd. Some people wore chokers, or loose beaded necklaces, or jewelry chains, or whatever else they fancied. One guy, who called himself Orvis, wore his tag on a strand of the strongest fishing line he could find on the market. Some sort of neckwear for your tag was mandatory, though, so it gave people a way to express themselves… as well as certain kinks they might fancy.

Speed fingered the tag, grinning over at Horatio. "Been a while since we've worn these, huh?"

"Mm-hmm," Horatio replied, running his eyes hungrily over his lover. "I forgot how good you looked in a collar."

Speed stood slowly, walking to the older man. "Me? If you kept those pants at home, we'd never fucking leave the house!" He stepped forward until their faces nearly touched, and without turning reached into the locker for the long, thin leather leash. "Ready, H?"

Horatio nodded and tilted his head up, allowing Speed to clip the leash to his collar. To mark himself as a top, Speed took another little charm they'd gotten from the front desk, a small leather riding crop roughly one foot long, and tied it carefully to the belt loop on his right hip, along with their locker key. Horatio offered the loop of the leash, and Speed slipped his wrist through it.

They stood quietly for a moment, the smells and the atmosphere beginning to change them. Horatio stood still, his head lowered, as Speed straightened and took on an air of control. It came so naturally to them, even after their long absence. Risking a glance at his lover, Horatio couldn't stop the soft sigh that escaped his lips. Standing there, tall and proud, Speed just looked so "magnificent," he whispered as he dropped to his knees.

"You say something, H?" Speed looked down at the redhead, who was staring fixedly at the floor.

"No, sir," Horatio murmured contritely.

"I think you did," Speed said casually. "And you know what?"

"What, sir?"

"Look at me." Horatio looked up at his lover, who stared back with an absolutely evil grin. "I'm going to teach you a lesson, Cain."

Horatio's pupils dilated. "Will you, sir?"

"I will. Now let's go. The Mistress is waiting."

Horatio all but leapt to his feet, and Speed gave a quick tug on the leash, headed for the dungeon. Horatio kept his eyes downcast as they walked, like a good slave, and Speed marveled silently at how easily they fit into these roles. In their normal day-to-day relationship, it was obvious that Horatio was the dominant one, but every now and then, the urge hit him and he could do nothing but slave himself out to his lover.

Emerging into the more populated areas, they saw many familiar faces right off the bat. Several of them smiled and waved in recognition, or came over to chat. It was immediately obvious that Cain would not be a Dom tonight, judging by the way he hung back and stared at the floor as Mr. Deeps spoke, but they said hello anyway.

"Mr. Deeps!" a smooth male voice rang out, and they turned to see a tall, oriental man striding to them. He was dressed rather like a Samurai in straw-like sandals and a black silk kimono. A long, rigid leather strap with a handle was held to his hip by his cloth belt, and his collar was a thin black strip of silk, with a tag proclaiming his name "Kurotaka-sama." The tag's ring was pink. Tagging along behind him was a slim blonde woman with large green eyes and a skimpy red kimono that barely covered her privates. Like her master, she wore simple straw sandals and a similar black silk choker, only her tag said "Momo" and had a blue ring. She was attached to her master's wrist by a thin, braided white leather leash.

"Master Kurotaka," Speed replied, coming to a stop, and Horatio stopped dutifully behind him. "Been quite a while, sir."

"And to you," Kurotaka replied with a small bow as Momo fixed her eyes to the floor. "You have been well, I hope?"

Speed gave a polite shrug. "I had an accident at work, which is why you haven't seen me for a while. But there's good news; I'm living with him now." He hooked his thumb over his shoulder, indicating his pet redhead.

Kurotaka smiled. "I am pleased to hear that. It always troubled me that you were forced to live apart from each other."

"Well, we're doing a lot better now. Hey, you haven't seen Trance or Hoppy around, have you?"

Kurotaka shook his head. "I have not. Momo?"

"Yes, Master?" Kurotaka's slave spoke softly.

"Have you seen either of those people tonight?"

"No, Master."

Kurotaka clicked his tongue. "Thank you, Momo," he murmured, touching her cheek briefly, and turned back to Speed. "Forgive me, Mr. Deeps, but we have seen neither of those people."

Speed hid his disappointment. "Well, thanks anyway. I hate to run off, but Mistress Pamela is waiting for us."

"Ah," Kurotaka said with another small bow. "Best not to keep her waiting, then. Be safe tonight, my friends." With that, he turned and left, Momo close at his heels.

"Those two make a good pair," Speed remarked as he started moving again. "He's good for her, too. You think so?"

"I do, sir," Horatio said softly, not speaking until Speed bid him do so. It was an oddly comforting thrill, being in Speed's complete control.

Speed wondered who else they would see tonight. He was disappointed to miss Hoppy and Trance, and idly he glanced around, seeking more familiar faces. Harker, maybe, or Cyber, or Reno. He saw none of these people, though, and he was disappointed as he passed the bar on his way up the stairwell.

Every patron used a code name at Club Deviate. It was a safety precaution, and one that Mistress Pamela strictly enforced. Only those people with wages paid by the club used their real names, and they were all denoted by a bright orange circle hanging behind their name tags. Those people could be anything from Doms to deejays, or sanitation workers or Dungeon Monitors or bartenders, or anything. Those people were prohibited from engaging in sexual acts with the patrons, but luckily for them, Florida State law didn't recognize flogging as a sexual act. Yet.

Patrons were encouraged to "donate" time or services to the club, in exchange for occasional discounts. There was no money involved, which gave city employees like them a lovely loophole through their "no moonlighting" policy. Horatio volunteered as a Dom and would occasionally advise the Mistress on the legality of some of her patrons' activities. He was also, on rare occasions, called upon to give a stern talking-to to an overzealous top that got a little too carried away with administering 'punishment.' Speed infrequently took the role of a Dungeon Monitor, or educated the occasional patron or employee with an in-depth scientific study of leather, Latex, general-purpose rubber, certain fabrics, and human pain tolerances.

Horatio was a skilled-enough Dom to be extremely popular with regular patrons of both sexes. His only condition was that Speed—sorry, Mr. Deeps—be allowed to remain present. The only time Horatio remained alone with a bottom was when the bottom was a female, at which point Speed would gladly leave the room and find another male top that was willing to fuck his brains out. Either that, or play Dungeon Monitor for a while.

They finally arrived at the door to the Mistress' office, where a rail-thin man of upper-East Asian descent sat cross-legged on the floor with his eyes closed and his head against the wall. Upon their approach, he stood. "Your names, please," he said crisply. His collar was nylon, hunter green, with the name of Kalishnikov and a pink tag ring.

"Mr. Deeps and Cain. Felix sent Syncro to inform you of our arrival."

"Ah yes. One moment, please." Nik turned and knocked softly on the door, sticking his head in. "Mistress, Mr. Deeps and Cain are here for you."

"Send them in, Nik," a sonorous female voice replied. Nik held the door open and waved them through.

Mistress Pamela stood as they entered. She was a tall, imposing woman, with long strawberry-blonde hair and steel-gray eyes. Her eyes, like her smile, could be warm and inviting one moment, and chill your veins the next. She wore a long skirt made of shimmering black silk, three-inch black heels, a gray scoop-neck shirt that perfectly accentuated her generous cleavage, and a belt that looked like black leather with silver studs. Her collar was a thin strip of black satin with a slight V-shaped dip in the front, meaning that it had a leather backing. Her collar tag was unusually large, in order to fit "Mistress Pamela" on it, and like Horatio, her tag ring was pink and blue.

She was intelligent, friendly, open-minded, honest, a ruthless businesswoman, and hygienic to the point of being nearly obsessive-compulsive. In other words, she was a perfect Domme.

Scarcely had Horatio's heels cleared the doorframe that Nik ducked back into the hall and closed the door behind him. Mistress Pamela came around the desk to greet first Speed, then his pet. "Timothy, Horatio, so good to see you both," she said in her smooth tones, giving both of them a peck on the cheek. Speed didn't mind; Pamela respected his sexuality. She was also pretty much the only female that he'd seen naked that didn't give him the cold shivers.

Pamela knew their names, of course; they'd been friends ever since they'd started coming to the club. "Please, sit, my friends. Tell me why it's been so long since you last graced us with your presence."

Speed picked a chair and sat, and Horatio knelt on the floor next to him without being asked, staring down. "You know," Pamela said with a smile, "it's been quite a while since I last saw your face, Horatio. I'd like to see it again."

Speed ruffled his lover's hair affectionately. "I know what's going through his mind, Mistress. It's been so long since we've taken on these roles that I don't think he wants to get out of it."

"Be that as it may, Mr. Deeps," she said firmly, her eyes twinkling, "I would ask you to have your pet come to my side of the desk and look at me."

Speed sat up in his chair, gazing down at Horatio. "Cain, do as the Lady asks. Crawl to her side of the desk and look her in the face."

"Yes, sir," Horatio whispered. Speed slipped his hand out of the leash loop and held it down to his lover, who took it in his teeth and made his way across the carpet to the other side of the massive rosewood desk. Kneeling, he dropped the lead into his lap and looked up at the Mistress.

She put a finger under his chin, smiling softly as she tilted his face this way and that. "He's put on weight," she remarked to Tim. "You've been taking good care of him." She stroked his hair back into place and made a little shooing motion. He ducked his head, picked up the leash to put it back into his mouth, and crawled back over to Speed. Speed stuck his wrist out, and Horatio again knelt and slid the loop around his lover's hand.

"He's been taking care of me, actually," Speed confessed, leaning forward to slide his vest off his bad shoulder so she could see the scars. "I got shot, and I had to have the joint replaced."

Pamela clicked her tongue. "I'm certain that it must have been hard on both of you. Particularly you, Horatio," she murmured softly. Horatio dared to rest his cheek on his lover's knee, and Speed responded by running his fingers through the soft red locks. "But as you both know, there is no great loss without some gain. And truly, you have gained much."

Speed gave a lopsided grin. "How do you know what we've gained, Mistress?"

She smiled back at him. "Because I know people, and because I know you two. And because I saw the rings hanging over your hearts. You two seem closer now than any time I've ever had you in my presence, and I'm certain that it's because you two have been living with each other."

Speed blinked at her.

"You said it yourself, Timothy, that he had been taking care of you. How else, then?"

Speed snorted and looked down at his lover. "You need to hire her, H. She'd make a damn good detective."

Horatio smiled but said nothing.

Mistress Pamela leaned forward and folded her hands on her expansive desk. "Was there anything I could do for you gentlemen, tonight? It's been rather slow, I'm afraid, and I wanted to welcome you back."

Speed inclined his head respectfully. "Thank you for the offer, Mistress, but I think we're just going to go off and do our own things tonight. Get it all back into our system, you know?"

She smiled. "'Our system,' I like that. Very well. Just remember, anything you need at all, simply ask one of the Monitors to pass it on to Nik or myself."

"I'll keep that in mind, Mistress, thank you." Speed stood and nodded to her again, in deference. "We'll speak again later this evening, Mistress, if you're still free."

"I always make time for my friends, Timothy." She stood, herself, and waved them away. "Now, off with you. Your pet is sorely late for his disciplinary lessons."

Speed gave a dark smile. "Well, I intend to fix that. Thank you, Mistress." He turned and tugged up on the leash, and Horatio climbed to his feet. "Come along, Pet, it's time to abuse you."

Horatio ducked his head. "Yes, sir."

Speed led Horatio down the stairwell and back across the dance floor, heading for a sign over a doorway that was clearly marked "Dungeon." One of the nice things about Club Deviate was that it sat at a high enough elevation to have a shallow basement. Not a full story underground, but some of the "cells" had high, tiny barred windows, perfect for the truly immersive roleplaying session.

Speed wasn't headed that way, though. No, he was heading for a large open room with five A-frame racks, each large enough to restrain a grown man, sat arranged in circle. On two sides of the room were three niches in the wall, each with another rack, for more… private beatings.

This was the only area in the club where full-scale flogging was allowed, and it was always supervised by at least one Dungeon Monitor. The Monitor's purpose was to oversee all potentially dangerous activities, making sure that all precautions were being followed and no safewords were ignored. Some of the private rooms might have racks, but no flogging was allowed without a Monitor or a Club-employed top. The back rooms did have all kinds of straps and riding crops, though.

Mistress Pamela prided herself on running a safe, clean club… which was ironic, considering how dangerous and dirty some of the acts they practiced were.

Speed glanced around. Only one of the racks was in use, one in the circle. A man had restrained a woman and was laying into her naked back with a heavy leather strap. The woman's face was a picture of exquisite agony, and Speed knew that she was definitely floating on an endorphin high. She was facing in Speed's direction, and he couldn't help but lock on to her naked breasts; unfortunately, as much as female genitalia turned him off, his brain was still hardwired to admire the bouncier aspects of the female figure. It was a vicious circle.

Apparently Horatio had noticed, even looking at the ground as he was, because he gently 'bumped' into Speed's shoulder as he came to a halt, distracting him. Speed almost thanked him until he realized that to do so would be to reward bad behavior, so he settled for tousling his lover's hair. Horatio _hated_ that, but he submitted meekly to the gesture. "C'mon, Cain, let's go find Tabitha."

A few moments later, Speed thought he noticed his quarry. Seated in a chair against the wall, actually reading a magazine with the aid of one of the spotlamps despite the thrashing going on across the room, he spied a gently overweight woman in a black PVC tube top, a matching short skirt, and lace-up boots that came to mid-thigh. Her hair was a shoulder-length auburn, and apparently she wore no makeup. Though she was too far away for them to read the tag on her white leather collar, they couldn't miss the pink ring around the tag and the second orange tag hanging behind her name. Speed thought he recognized her, though.

"Hey, Tabitha!" Speed called, and the shapely woman looked up. "You involved in anything?"

"Not at the moment, Mr. Deeps," she replied, standing. According to Speed's memory, Tabitha was a die-hard lesbian but an equal-opportunity flogger, and very strict about master-and-slave roles. They exchanged pleasantries, completely ignoring Horatio, until evidently something bugged her enough that she finally deigned to notice him. "Oh, you're taking your sub for a walk?"

Speed glanced to his side, suddenly noticing that Horatio was still standing and looking her in the face, rather than looking down like he was supposed to. Speed growled and shot his hand out, grabbing a fistful of Horatio's hair at the base of his skull. The redhead let out a watery moan and his knees buckled. "You forgot to _kneel_, Cain," Speed snarled.

"Forgive me, sir," Horatio whispered, eyes to the floor. If Speed would just let him go, he would gladly have kissed his boots. It had been _far_ too long since they'd been here, and he was embarrassingly out of practice. "I forgot my place, sir. Won't happen again."

Tabitha looked on with interest. "How'd you get him to drop so fast?"

"It's his sweet spot, on the back of his neck. Depending on how you manipulate it, you can get him in all kinds of moods." Speed's tone was calm, almost dry, ignoring Horatio's mortification at how his lover was giving away such a secret. Speed let go of Horatio's hair and smoothed it back into place as he leaned in to whisper almost conspiratorially, "Grab his hair like I did, and he'll do damn near anything."

"I'll keep that in mind," she said with something very near a giggle.

Speed glanced back down at his slave. "Now, Cain, I want you to apologize to Lady Tabitha for being so out-of-order."

Horatio placed his palms on the floor and crawled to her, kissing the toe of one thigh-high boot. "I beg your pardon, Lady," he said quietly.

Tabitha looked only at Speed. "I'll forgive him this time, Mr. Deeps."

Speed nodded. "Appreciate it." He watched as Horatio backed up until he was kneeling next to his master again. "Tabitha… could you do me a favor?"

"I suppose."

Speed tossed a glance at her before looking back down at his kneeling lover. "Would you mind tying him up and beating the hell out of him?" He saw Horatio twitch, saw the trembling in the older man's shoulders, and reached down to lay a hand on one. "Cain, would you like Tabitha to flog you?"

Horatio's voice cracked. "Only if it pleases you, sir."

Tabitha gave a wicked grin. "Oh, I think he wants it, Deeps."

"I think he does, too. I'd do it myself, but my arm's busted." He pulled his vest to the side far enough for her to see some of the scarring. "Besides, I heard you were in the house, so…"

She smiled modestly. "Who told you? Felix? News travels fast."

"Good news, anyway."

She paused a moment, thought, and nodded. "All right. Have him take off his shirt and take the third rack off to the side. I'll be over there in a minute; I just need to speak to the Monitor."

"Thank you." Speed tugged on the leash and went close where he was indicated. "All right, Cain, you heard the lady. Get ready for her." With that, he unclipped the leash, and Horatio stood.

Speed noticed a bit of apprehension in the redhead. "You ready for this?"

Horatio looked at him, smiling softly. "I'm more than ready, sir. I want it."

"Well, good." Speed took a moment to smile evilly and casually tweak a nipple underneath Horatio's tight shirt. "Now get that off."

"Yes, sir."

Horatio peeled off his shirt and laid it on a nearby padded bench. Speed took a moment to admire his lover before beckoning him over to the large A-frame rack. To the redhead's surprise, a pair of young women in matching white-leather outfits and no tag rings had already put the bars into place, and stood quietly to wait for their Mistress. To have no tag ring was unusual; it indicated that either the wearer had no interest in sex, or was a trainee for the Club's employment.

The rack itself was interesting. It wasn't a true A shape, as it was only wide enough near the top for a six-foot man with average arm span to reach fully out at any angle. Several large ringbuckles were drilled through the steel at various points along that general height, for whichever angle the victim's arms were most comfortable.

The top of the A wasn't enclosed and pointed, either. The sides were rather steep, though. Ringbuckles were there near the floor, as well, for the ankle restraints. Alternately, on the floor and directly between the sides of the rack was a huge steel ring bolted to the floor.

In several places along the rack were slots for support bars, which could were fastened into place with pinhole screws. The number of bars depended on the gender; for males, an even number of bars was placed onto the rack. One across the ankle-region, two across the thighs, two across the belly and one across the upper chest. A permanent-mount bar was mounted at forehead height—but was, of course, adjustable—with a soft padded cup.

The bars themselves were padded PVC pipe with a steel bar through the middle, and as Speed beckoned Horatio into position, the two quiet women began going to work. They knelt at his feet and silently persuaded him to spread his legs, clipping double-headed leads—small-gauge chain with dog-leash clips at both ends—to the rack and to his ankle cuffs. A second set of leads went from the other D-ring on his cuffs to the ring in the middle of the floor.

Speed stood behind his lover. "Raise your arms, Cain," he said softly, and Horatio did as asked. "Find a height you're comfortable with, and don't lie about it." Horatio knew better than to lie about it, but Speed felt the need to say it anyway. It was important for the 'victim' to be comfortable and relaxed for the endorphins to do their job.

Horatio tested a few different heights before settling on one and nodding, and Speed attached the short double-leads from his wrist cuffs to the ringbuckles. Tabitha appeared beside him, and clipped short, thick strings of chain to his wrist cuffs as well. "For the dungeon effect," she explained. "And also so I can hear how bad he's shaking." Speed nodded; it made sense.

Finally Horatio was properly restrained. Speed took a moment to admire his captive, bound like some gaudy display, and the thought made him chuckle. He walked in a slow circle, noting his lover's respiration rate, and as he paused by Horatio's side he lifted his hand to barely ghost a fingertip down the redhead's spine. Horatio shivered and moaned.

"You're so responsive," Speed said quietly, running his fingertip back up and feeling his lover vibrate under his touch. "Normally that's a good thing, but you know that you need to relax."

"I know, sir, but it feels like so long ago that we last did this. And you were the one holding the whip, remember?"

Speed snickered. "I remember. But you need to calm down if you're going to enjoy this."

Horatio snorted. "If I may, sir, think about what you just said."

Speed did, and saw the humor. "I'm telling you to relax and enjoy yourself while a man-hating lesbian thrashes you so hard with a bullwhip that you'll be in screaming pain before the endorphins hit."

"Exactly." Horatio gave a heavy sigh, attempting to work out some of his nerves. "May I ask you for something?"

"Anything for you, Pet," Speed whispered, firming his touch to give more of a comforting rub to one shoulder.

Horatio sighed at the contact. "Kiss me, sir?"

"Be glad to." Speed removed his hand and stepped in front of his lover, their bodies separated only by the bars of the rack. With Horatio's legs spread the way they were, they were at nearly eye level, so Speed had no problems stepping forward and brushing his lips against Horatio's.

No problem with height, anyway, and Horatio snorted into the kiss. Speed didn't need him to explain; the stupid headrest bar was in the way. He made the most of it anyway, tilting his head and deepening the contact, and Horatio made a soft noise in his throat as he followed suit and matched Speed's angle, enjoying the soft skin that danced across his mouth.

Speed's hands slipped between the admittedly widely-spaced bars and ran teasing fingers up and down his sides, and Horatio grunted. "No fair," he muttered.

Speed leaned back, staring into the clear blue eyes that he loved so much. "You say something, Pet?" he asked quietly, gentle emphasis on the title.

Horatio remembered himself. "Sorry, sir. I just wish I could touch you right now."

Speed gave a truly devious smile and stepped back, giving his lover's sides a last caress before crossing his arms over his chest. "Oh, believe me, you'll get plenty of opportunities later."

A feminine throat cleared, and Speed looked over Horatio's shoulder to see Tabitha standing there, her arms crossed in something that wasn't quite impatience. "I'm glad that you're relaxing him, Mr. Deeps, but would you like to go ahead and get started? I've been told that there's going to be another couple coming by in about half an hour, and I promised them last week that I'd be the one to work them over."

"Sure. Sorry." Speed reached up to brush his lover's cheek with a gentle hand before stepping back and letting Tabitha stand in his place. To his surprise, he noticed that her two so-far silent assistants had walked up, watching her.

Tabitha double-checked their work with the restraints, reaching out to occasionally give a bar a firm shake and nodding at the fit. She noticed Horatio's look but turned to Speed to explain. "They're my apprentices. Normally I'd let them have a go at your slave, but Jaelix told me that tonight is going to get pretty heavy between you two."

Speed nodded, turning to glance at the massive man, who gave a small wave before turning back to observe the other couple already hard at play with leather straps. Jaelix was an old friend, and apparently he remembered that matters usually got serious when Horatio was on the bottom end of the leash. Speed didn't appreciate frivolity when he topped.

He knew that trainees had to practice on _somebody_, but he would rather that it not be himself or Horatio. He preferred to put his safety in the hands of trusted professionals.

Finally Tabitha pronounced their victim to be securely restrained, and beckoned to Speed as they stepped toward her chair and her supplies. "So how do you want me to hurt him?" she asked with a mischievous grin.

Speed considered that seriously. "Normally I'd say to give a hard start and see how he is, but it's been a while since we've been here, and he almost always topped, anyway."

She nodded. "How long since he's been on the rack?"

Speed actually had to think about it. "About seven, eight months," he responded finally.

Her eyebrows lifted slightly. "No wonder he was out of practice," she wondered, and Speed gave a rueful grin. "All right, I'll warm him up and give a hard ten, and then I'll let you read him."

"Sounds good to me."

She stepped over to what looked like a large rectangular guitar case, undoing the snaps and revealing several coiled floggers. "You have a shoulder tonight?"

"Huh?"

She blinked at him. "A backup, a Second. Jeez, he's not the only one that's been out of the loop too long."

Speed looked sheepish. "No. I was thinking about maybe getting Jaelix to do it, but he's busy watching them," and he hooked a thumb over his shoulder to indicate the man strapping the woman, and a larger black man behind them. Jaelix had extremely dark skin, making him hard to pick out of the shadows sometimes. "And besides, this is the only really painful thing I was planning on doing to him tonight. I was going to spend the rest of the time just owning him, ya know?"

Tabitha nodded. "Now, what do I need to know about him?"

Speed thought; God, it had been so long since they'd done this, and Horatio actually seemed calmer than Speed. "He shakes a lot at first, and he has this annoying habit of twitching down and to the right. It's normal for him to rattle his hands, but if he starts yanking, that's a warning sign. If he yanks and his head starts flopping, he's going into shock.

"I'm going to stand in front of him while you're whipping, and every now and then I might jump behind him and tease him. Most of the time I'll keep watch on his eyes; if they start to cloud over, he needs to stop."

"Depending on how far he can go, do you want me to draw blood?"

He shook his head. "Nope, no blood. Neither one of us is into that kind of thing." Speed wasn't bothered by blood; he _was_ bothered by people bleeding from odd places. Horatio wasn't really into it, either. Perhaps he could have at one time, but their careers had guided them into a mentality that seeing blood was a bad thing.

She nodded. "And his safeword?"

"Allen."

She paused. "What did you mean, tease him? Does he get off on this?"

Speed gave a faint smile. "He's kinda funny when it comes to pain. I mean, emotional pain, he just kinda swallows it and turns it into fuel. Regular physical pain, like if he smashed his hand or something, he hates that as much anybody. Something like _this_," and he indicated their victim, "gets him hard as fucking hell."

"Hmm." The sound revealed nothing as she picked out one of her floggers, a long eighteen-tailed monstrosity made completely of leather. It actually had six long strands, composed of three inter-braided small strips that were roughly five feet long, at which point there was a knot on each braid, and the flogger itself ended with three feet of the unbraided strips. Looking closely at one of the ends, Speed noticed that each individual tail had a two-inch slit in it, doubling the number of contact points. It wouldn't be very accurate, but it would sting like a _bitch_.

Tabitha hefted the flogger, swinging it through the air without a sound, getting a feel for its weight. Noticing Speed's look, she gave him a dark smile. "Relax, Mr. Deeps. I'm very good at what I do."

He swallowed and nodded. "I'm sure you are. I'm, uh… gonna go stand over by Cain now."

"You do that," she said calmly. Speed stepped over until he was standing next to his lover, and she moved into position. "All right, Cain. I'm going to start slow, all right? Just relax, Pet, and I'll have you flying high in no time."

Horatio nodded and leaned into his headrest, sagging into his bonds, making a conscious effort to relax. Over his shoulder, he heard the hissing noise, and a loud _crack!_ snapped in the air next to his ear, and he jumped. He waited, and there came another _hiss-crack!_ beside his other ear, making him jolt again. The third snap came from just above his head, and he did his best not to startle, failing miserably. Silence came from behind him as he stood there in his bonds, his ankles vibrating with adrenaline.

He heard the soft hiss, but no whip-crack sounded, and he felt the tails swish harmlessly across his back and slide to the floor, and he jumped even worse. The muscles in his lower back knotted fiercely, subconsciously trying to protect his kidneys, and he made a determined effort to make the muscles go slack. Seeing his reactions, Speed stepped close and ran a gentle hand over his back. "Why so nervous, Cain?" Speed murmured huskily into his ear. "We're only going to hurt you."

Horatio swallowed. "It _has_ been a while, sir."

Speed stepped back, and after a second the tails swished through the air again, raining over his shoulders and making little tickling sensations down his back. Tabitha's next strike was another bluff, but a damn good one; she put power into it, and although the leather didn't touch his back, he could still feel the wind disturbed by the wicked snapping noises just behind his shoulder.

And then she hit him, hard, all eighteen strips connecting with an ear-splitting _crack!_ as he felt the sudden burst of red-hot pain against his left shoulderblade. Horatio jolted and snarled, his wrists shaking.

"You all right, Cain?" she called.

Horatio nodded, unable to speak as all the moisture seemed to have left his mouth.

"Here comes your ten!"

Scarcely had she finished speaking then her flogger impacted off his other shoulder and he jolted against his bonds, making a noise that wasn't quite a scream. "One!" she called calmly.

"Two!" Horatio gritted his teeth and forced himself to meet the impact rather than duck away from it, much to Speed's approving nod, but Tabitha apparently had other ideas. "Hold it," she ordered, although she was the only one actually doing anything. "I see what you meant about him ducking away, Mr. Deeps."

Horatio shot a glance at his lover, who glanced back. "You have a solution in mind?" Speed asked with a raised brow.

She nodded and beckoned to one of her apprentices, who brought over a long and very wide nylon strap with clips on both ends. Tabitha allowed the girl to hold her flogger as she stepped over to Horatio and laid the strap across the backs of his thighs and secured it tightly to the ringbuckles on the rack. Horatio realized that his thighs were pressed firmly against the bars of the rack, and there was no way he'd be able to duck now.

"Does this meet with your approval, Mr. Deeps?" Tabitha asked calmly.

Speed flicked another glance at his lover, who gave a slow nod. "I think he'll be fine with it," Speed replied.

"Good. Shall we continue?"

Speed nodded and moved back into position. Tabitha hefted the flogger, snapping it expertly and causing Horatio to roar again. "Three!"

Speed watched his lover buck and scream as the fourth strike hit. He stood impassively, his arms folded, his internal dilemma evidenced only by the pain in his eyes. Horatio had wanted this. Horatio had asked for this. And Speed was giving it to him. Seeing the redhead in pain always bothered Speed, but he knew that the rewards were going to outweigh the drawbacks.

"Five!"

Speed and Horatio had many reasons for wanting to get restrained and flogged. A lot of it was the trust they had in each other. There was also the whole master-slave thing, and enjoying the submission of each other. And then there was the endorphin high.

Horatio and Speed had a deep-seated hatred of illegal drugs, but when you took flogging into consideration, you could almost call the two men 'habitual users.' Endorphins were the body's natural response to pain, and gave the injured person an incredible buzz. Horatio and Speed liked to get stoned, but only from getting flogged like this, and very infrequently. They _earned_ their high, paying with every lash of the whip.

"Six!" Horatio groaned, his arms shaking and making the chains rattle. His body was starting to respond to the pain, and Speed carefully watched it happen. They had to be careful, because a beating like this was _way_ too easy to screw up.

"Seven!" she snapped, the bullwhip cracking again, her target marked by another bright spot of crimson. "Eight!" The flogger struck the same place twice, and Horatio howled as the pain shot straight through his system. "Nine!" With an extra flick of her wrist, Tabitha made the whip seem to drag across his back rather than just a straight snap, and the redhead could almost feel the heat rising from his scores.

There was an expectant pause. Without warning, what felt like the entirety of his back exploded in a burst of white-hot agony and he gave a scream that must have echoed throughout the dungeon. Every sense in his body was alive and on fire, the pain nearly overwhelming for brief seconds.

"Ten," she said in a calm, almost anticlimactic voice.

Horatio shuddered into his bonds, panting. It hurt—_God_, it hurt—but underneath the pain was a sleepy, almost drugged feeling that began circulating through his body and lodging pointedly in his brain. Endorphins began to coat his sensibilities, and an unreasonable streak of giddiness broke through his frantic gasps for air.

And then he giggled. He actually giggled.

"You enjoying yourself, Cain?" Speed asked drolly, noting the slightly stoned look beginning to haze his lover's eyes.

"Yessir, very much sir, thank you sir," was Horatio's somewhat rushed reply, the redhead unable to wipe the idiotic grin off his face. It was a look that was undeniably odd on the face of Horatio Caine.

"You want to keep going?"

"Yes I do," Horatio said with a snicker. "Please, sir, I'd like some more!"

Speed stared at him, then sighed and shook his head. "You get so weird when you're 'dorphed up, Cain."

"I know." The redhead's expression said that at the moment, he really didn't care, either.

Speed leaned around the rack to look at Tabitha. "How about another five?"

"Works for me." She handed her flogger off to one of her apprentices and went back to her case, choosing a different weapon. Speed's eyes widened as she pulled out a black leather bundle that had to weigh at least ten pounds. The handle looked like it should require two hands, but when Tabitha beckoned him to come and look, he realized that the handle was actually simple wood cork with oiled, dried cords wrapped around it for grip and a thin steel rod through the center to prevent bending and give a counterweight. The tails themselves were insanely long—to Speed's eyes—and extremely thick.

This one wasn't designed to sting. It was designed to leave bruises. "The harder I swing, the less it'll tear him," she told him. She took an experimental shot at the air behind Horatio's back, and Speed's keen eyes noted that due to the length of the nine thick tails, a harder swing also meant greater momentum and greater arc.

Except for the sound, Horatio wasn't going to think he was being whipped. He was going to think that Tabitha was throwing rocks at him.

"This is my Hammer," she said with a truly evil smile.

Yes, Tabitha was one of those that named her whips. He'd even heard her talking to them, on occasion. He was just glad that they didn't answer her.

"Give him another five, would you?" Speed asked politely. "He's already getting the buzz, so try not to overdo it."

She nodded. "How are his eyes?"

"Still pretty clear. I think he can take more."

"You're the Dom," Tabitha said primly. "You want to tease him first?"

Speed cocked his head. "Sure, why not? I'll check his wounds while I'm over there." He turned and headed toward his lover, who had sagged into his restraints, panting. Speed reached out, his fingers hovering just above the skin of Horatio's back, and he could feel the heat rising from the angry red scores. Tabitha hadn't broken the skin, but there were still some hefty welts on the pale back. It almost looked like Lady Tabitha had tried to draw feathered wings on Horatio with a red marker.

Tabitha's aim was good, especially considering how un-accurate her first weapon had been. She'd stayed entirely in the 'safety zone' of the upper back, and avoided anything that didn't have a ribcage underneath it. Some floggers liked to occasionally strike the backs of the thighs, or the buttocks, but neither Horatio nor Speed was fond of that. Besides, he didn't want to shred Horatio's leather pants.

Speed knelt down and pressed his palms to the tile floor, cooling his skin, and then stood and gently pressed both hands to the over-heated flesh. Horatio jerked and groaned at the new sensation, but Speed shushed him gently. "It's just me, Pet," he soothed.

"Oh, God, sir," Horatio moaned.

"You like this, don't you?" Speed murmured, his hands sliding down to take two firm handfuls of Horatio's ass and giving a hard, sensuous squeeze.

"Yes, sir," Horatio agreed as he tried to press into Speed's touch, his movements hampered by the strap across his thighs.

"You want another ten?"

"God, yes sir, please," Horatio moaned as Speed ground himself into Horatio's leather-clad ass.

Speed leaned forward to nibble on the back of his lover's neck, feeling the older man tremble beneath him. "Good boy," he whispered. "I'll tell her to give you a reward."

"Thank you, sir," the redhead whispered back as Speed withdrew.

Returning to his place in front of his lover, Speed waited for Tabitha to begin lashing out. Her first impact came almost without warning, and what an impact it was—Speed could hear nine small thumps against Horatio's ribcage, and he cringed inwardly as Horatio roared and jerked against his bonds.

"One!"

Tabitha's Hammer cracked again, the leather thudding against Horatio's back. As Speed watched, Horatio began to change. He still shook and shouted as the Hammer pounded him again, but his face… he was flying high on the endorphins, and Speed couldn't help a little smile as his lover just floated away.

All too soon, Tabitha had given her five and stood waiting for Speed's next suggestion. Horatio was definitely buzzed, so Speed just took a slow walk around the restrained man, checking the wounds and keeping an eye on his lover's condition.

An appreciative whistle caught his attention, and his head turned to see Jaelix standing there with his arms crossed, watching them. Glancing to the side, Speed saw that the other couple had finished their beating and were now watching casually from their places on the bench next to the rack they'd used. Behind the woman was a man in a clean white shirt with a red cross over the left breast, treating the wounds on her back. On the floor was another man, this one in an orange shirt with a white cross, cleaning up the little puddles of blood.

"Hey, Jaelix," Speed said by way of greeting, moving out of the way and motioning to Tabitha to give Horatio another five.

"Hey, Deeps. Been a while." The man was every bit as huge as his big lover out front, but the only differences were hair and color. Where Felix looked like a muscular Roman god with little curls between his pectorals, Caesar bangs, and easy blue eyes, Jaelix was just smooth and dark. He was completely hairless—not voluntarily, but actually a medical condition called _Alopecia areata universalis_, in which the body grew no hair—and his skin was black. Not dark, or coffee-colored, or even virgin-earth-colored. The man was space black.

Jaelix had once mentioned that being "blue-black" was common to people in Barbados, from whence his family descended. Indeed, the glare on his skin from occasional spot lamps seem to shine blue.

Like Felix, Jaelix wore only leather shorts on the bottom, although his were stained a dark red. More red leather was strapped across his chest in an X and held together by a large circular metal ring. Most striking of all was the jewelry: both nipples were pierced with large hoops of solid silver, the effect of which was striking against his smooth, shadowy skin.

Speed moved to stand next to the jolly black giant, who pointed to the rack just in time for Speed to see Tabitha's next strike land. Horatio jolted and howled, the chains rattling. Speed watched him for a moment before glancing at his old friend. "What've you been up to?"

"Same old things," Jaelix replied, wincing as Horatio took another strike. "Damn woman's crazy," he muttered, meaning Tabitha, and shook his head. "Or maybe you people are crazy, lettin' yourselves get whipped like that."

"Flogging's not for everybody, Jaelix," Speed said with a grin. "How are you and Felix doing?"

"We're good. He's training a new bottom, did you meet him?"

"Syncro? Yeah, we met him." Speed watched as Horatio snarled and pulled hard at the restraints, eyes rolling back in his head as the flogger slammed into his shoulder again. Frowning, Speed stepped forward until he was almost nose-to-nose, holding up a hand beside Horatio's head so Tabitha would pause for a moment. "You doing okay, H?" he asked his lover quietly.

Horatio panted but didn't respond, his body vibrating, eyes closed. "H, lemme see your eyes," Speed commanded, and Horatio cracked them open. The normally clear blue eyes were starting to cloud over, and Speed cursed. "That's enough, Tabitha! His eyes are clouding!"

"I've got blood, too," she called back, handing her flogger off to one of her apprentices, who immediately took it down to the sanitizing room. Speed circled around to see that yes, a few of the angry red streaks were actually weeping tiny crimson droplets. "Want to take him down?"

"Not yet. No more flogging, but he can stay up for a little while longer." He stepped behind his lover, placing his hands on the trembling hips.

"Why?" Tabitha asked, confused.

Jaelix answered for him, grinning, his teeth startlingly white against the living shadow of his skin. "Because I'm about to invite Cain over to my house to help me nail some shingles to my roof!"

Seeing Tabitha's confusion, Jaelix beckoned her over, and she stopped dead at the sight of Horatio's leather pants stretched to what had to be an extremely painful proportion. Speed had his hips pressed firmly against his lover's ass, grinding slowly.

"Did you enjoy that?" Speed hissed in the redhead's ear

Horatio gave a watery groan. "Yes, sir."

"You want me to fuck you, don't you?" Speed whispered smoothly, reaching around to cup Horatio's erection, which was straining against his pants and threatening to pop the seams. "Oh, damn, you're hard. Want me to take it out?"

Horatio's tone bordered on a whimper. "Please, sir."

Speed tossed a glance at Jaelix, who shrugged. The rack they were using wasn't exactly in a specified "sexual-acts-approved area," but at the same time it wasn't ruled out, either. Jaelix was a Dungeon Monitor, so it was up to him to approve it. The dark man gave him a nod, and Speed unzipped his lover's pants in the front.

Horatio gave a relieved moan as his cock sprang free. Tabitha gasped, and Jaelix just grinned wider. Speed grasped it and shot an incredulous look at his audience. The big man hadn't been kidding; Horatio could probably drive nails through _concrete_. "Jesus, Cain, save some blood flow for the rest of us," Speed gasped quietly.

Horatio made a low hissing noise that eventually formed into "Sorry, sir."

Speed paused. "Cain, what's your safeword?"

It took the redhead a moment to answer. "Allen."

"How bad does it hurt?"

Horatio gave a dreamy smile, the product of all the endorphins coursing through his system. "Hurts just fine."

"You want to stop for a while?"

Horatio moved his hips slowly back and forth, stroking himself in Speed's hand. "God, no, I want you to fuck me."

Speed shot another look at Jaelix, who grinned back at him. Tabitha the rabid lesbian couldn't stop staring at the diamond cutter that was Horatio's cock, and that made Speed grin at the both of them. "All right, Cain. As soon as the medic works you over, I'll fuck you."

"Thank you, sir," Horatio moaned, his length painfully hard in Speed's hand.

Speed waved at Jaelix, who unclipped a walkie-talkie from his rather skimpy belt-strap. "Flogging Monitor to Medical, we've got a guy that can use some bandages. Nothing serious. Little blood but nothing's hit the floor. Identify patron Cain."

"Understood, Flogging Monitor," the device crackled back. Jaelix nodded at Speed, who nodded back. Within a few minutes, a redheaded woman with a small medkit came strolling up, wearing an outfit similar to Tabitha's except for lower-cut boots and a busty white shirt with a red cross in the front and back.

"What seems to be the problem?" she cooed at Jaelix in a surprisingly husky voice. Jaelix just pointed at the rack, where Speed knelt in front of Horatio and was massaging his lover's iron-hard erection. She nodded and stepped behind her charge, opening her kit and snapping on Latex gloves. "Want some anesthetic?"

"Naah," Speed responded. Inwardly he had to smile; only here would a medic _ask_ you if you wanted the pain to go away. "Just patch him up, please. He's got a lot stuff planned for him tonight."

"You got it." She pulled out a gauze pad and some antibacterial spray, spraying the can over the flesh and wiping up the few oozing blood droplets, ignoring her patient's hiss at the new pain. When he was properly sanitized, she pulled out some thin white bandage strips and laid them over the wounds, securing them with medical tape. "I'll let you guys peel that off when he gets home tonight. Maybe pour some isopropyl on the wounds."

"Thanks," Speed said brightly as she handed a small plastic bag to Jaelix. He held it open while she dropped her gloves and the bloody gauze in it. When that was done, she snapped her kit shut and grabbed the bag from him.

"Have a safe night, guys," she said as she strode back to Medical, in order to drop the bag in the Biohazard bin.

Speed shook his head and grinned. "Gotta love the efficiency of this place."

Tabitha nodded. "And the cleanliness. Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe you have a slave that needs your attention."

Speed shot her a dirty look. "Who made you Domme?"

"I did." Jaelix crossed his arms and smiled evilly. "She Flogger, me Monitor, you Dom. That means we outrank you. Now make with the fucking."

"Yes, sir," Speed replied with a grin. He reached into the drawstring pouch at his hip, pulling out the lube and a condom. "Cain?" he whispered at his slave.

"Sir?"

"Would you like to get fucked, right here on the rack?"

Horatio took only a few seconds to respond. "Yes, sir," he whispered back. Speed knew that Horatio rarely minded fucking in front of an audience whenever they were at the club, but only when he topped. When he bottomed, he tended to become extremely shy, to the point of being unable to maintain an erection. Mistress Pamela had once mentioned that it was probably a side effect of him keeping his relationship with Speed in the closet, while in public.

Speed thought a moment. "Would it make it easier if I blindfolded you?"

Horatio stiffened, and Speed noticed the redhead's cock twitch. It seemed to the older man that every time Speed blindfolded him, all sorts of wonderfully perverse things happened to him. "Yes, sir."

"Good." Speed suddenly realized that he didn't have a blindfold, but that turned out to not be a problem as Tabitha offered him a black silk bandana. "You staying to watch?" he hissed quietly at her.

She shrugged. "Nobody else for me to beat. And besides, I think it's kinda hot to watch men fuck. I just don't like them fucking _me_."

Speed broke into a grin without really knowing why. "You know, I kinda know the feeling. My brain's still hardwired to appreciate breasts and a pretty female face, but everything below the waist on a woman is just… ugh."

The corners of her mouth flipped down, trying to frown instead of laugh. "Care to declare truce?"

"I could go for that," Speed nodded. He turned to his victim, who was watching them with his bleary-eyed, slightly stoned gaze. "Such a shame to hide those eyes," Speed murmured as he laid the black silk over Horatio's eye sockets. His face was inches from his lover's as he reached behind the skewed red hair to tie the cloth. When the knot was secure, his hands slipped down the neck, across the shoulders, and back up to gently cup his slave's chin as he pressed his lips to the panting mouth for a gentle, insistent kiss.

Horatio responded instantly, moaning and opening his mouth, begging for tongue. Speed chuckled and gave it to him, one hand pulling back and reaching down around the chest bar for a nipple, and Horatio vibrated gently in his grasp.

But the stupid headrest was _still_ in the way, and Speed leaned back with a frown. "Tabitha, any way we can make this top bar go away?"

She nodded and stepped up to the rack, fiddling with something, and one end came loose; the thing was on a hinge! "Nice," Speed muttered as she returned to her previous spot. He now had full access to Horatio's face and he took advantage of it, his tongue diving between Horatio's lips without a hint of warning, and Horatio groaned and sucked on the soft muscle.

"You wanna get fucked, don't you?" Speed growled softly. He pulled back his tongue and ran it along his lover's jaw, finding the redhead's earlobe and nipping at it.

"Oh, God," Horatio moaned. "Please, sir, fuck me."

Speed sneered and pulled back, moving around the rack to grind himself into Horatio's ass again. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to the ultra-sensitive nape of the older man's neck, and Horatio shivered. Speed sucked gently on the spot, marking it, as he moved a hand to the rear of Horatio's leather pants, finding the concealed zipper and sliding it slowly open. One might think that fucking something surrounded by a zipper was _not_ the smartest idea in the world, but the zipper was actually quite recessed into the thick leather surrounding it. When Speed pulled it open, the slit went pretty much from two inches below Horatio's waistband all the way to his inseam.

Speed reached for the drawstring bag on his hip, pulling out the lube and a condom. He slid the Latex over himself and dribbled some lube on his fingers, reaching between the leather to find Horatio's needy opening, teasing it with a slick finger before sliding in. Horatio groaned and squirmed on his feet as that maddening finger pumped slowly, pointedly ignoring his prostate. A second finger quickly joined the first, and Horatio strained against the strap, trying to press himself against those fingers.

"I'm going to enjoy this," Speed growled sensually as a third finger came into play, slowly twisting and stretching. Horatio was in no condition to reply as the fingers abruptly withdrew, and he outright whined. "Easy, Pet. Don't want to fuck you dry," Speed murmured as he slicked up the Latex covering his dick. He capped the lube and dropped it and the empty wrapper back in the bag, aiming with one hand. Horatio threw back his head and gave a shuddering moan as his younger lover slid slowly inside, driving home in a single, agonizingly slow push.

Horatio made wordless noises of pleasure as his lover filled him, then emptied him, then filled him again. Quickly Speed built up a rhythm, grasping the redhead's hips with both hands and pulling himself into his captive love. Speed was cursing quietly, words of vulgar praise spilling from his lips as began bucking into the older man, harder and harder.

"That's it, Cain," Speed growled. "Take every inch of me, take it hard!"

"Yessss," his lover hissed, pushing against the rack, trying to fuck himself harder onto Speed's pounding cock. "Please…"

"Please what?"

"Please, Speed, I need—"

Speed buried himself into the bound man and halted, bringing one hand up to scratch warningly against the bandages. "What did I tell you about calling me that _here_?"

Horatio could only give an incoherent groan and buck his hips, trying to rub his aching cock on the support bar, but the strap stopped him.

"Answer me!" Speed snarled, pulling away slowly.

"Here, I'm to call you… call you… oh, please, Deeps, please fuck me!"

Speed gave a little sigh of relief; Horatio could remember his dungeon name, which meant that he was okay. But the little slip of 'Speed' was a warning sign that he needed to back it down a notch. "Are you telling me what to do, Cain?"

"No…" Horatio licked his lips. "No, sir."

"Good. All the same, though, I think I'll make you sit here with my dick in your ass until you remember your manners."

Horatio made a mewling noise and twitched his hips again, finding no way to gain any friction.

"Cain, are you trying to get yourself off without my permission? Jesus, you're all kinds of disobedient tonight!"

Horatio became as still as he could, but he couldn't halt the trembling. "Please forgive me, Mr. Deeps, sir."

Speed leaned in close until the hairs on his chest started poking Horatio's fresher wounds, the ones without the bandages, and the redhead hissed at the sudden sting and itch. "You know, Cain, I think you're screwing up on purpose. I think you _want_ to get punished some more." He stretched out and found Horatio's trigger point below the hairline on his neck, nibbling gently. "Don't you?" he demanded softly through clenched teeth, and a shudder ran through his lover's body.

"Sir, I-I need…"

This was going nowhere. It wasn't about the 'punishment' anymore; something was distracting his lover and he needed to figure out what it was. Speed sighed and began pulling out. "Cain, don't make me ask you again."

Horatio couldn't even remember the question. All he could think about was a desperate, overwhelming need for his lover's presence, for his bodily contact, for his approval. "Please, sir, don't…"

Speed backed up so that the only contact between them was his hands on Horatio's shoulders. "I think I'll give you a moment to think about it."

"Sir, no," Horatio whispered desperately, and when Speed's hands slipped off, leaving Horatio blindfolded and restrained and exposed and alone, something snapped in him. "Oh, God, no. Please, come back."

Speed didn't answer, and Horatio pulled hard on his restraints. "Deeps, I'm sorry. I've been rude and I can't remember how to act, and I'm distracted. Don't be angry with me, please, sir."

No response.

"Deeps, sir, don't be angry. Come back, please. _Please_, sir!"

Nothing.

"Deeps, please!" Horatio twisted around frantically, searching ineffectually, not finding. With the extra strap keeping his legs flush with the bars, he couldn't twist all the way around, and even if he wasn't blindfolded he still couldn't have seen Speed standing in his extra-large blind spot. "Please, sir, don't do this to me!"

Tabitha walked quietly up to Speed, who stood there with his arms crossed, watching. "Deeps," she hissed. "What are you doing, breaking him?"

"Not quite," he whispered back. "Just testing a theory. Just waiting for him to say one specific thing."

She tossed a glance back at the bound man, who was shaking and actually seemed to be on the verge of tears. "Well, it seems pretty cruel to me. It looks like he has abandonment issues."

Speed's features softened. "Yeah… but he's almost there, I promise."

Horatio reared his head back. "Deeps, please sir!" he howled. "Don't leave me!"

"That's my cue," Speed hissed quietly. He stepped quickly forward and pressed himself to his lover's body, his flagging erection nestled firmly in the cleft of his lover's ass. He put his fingertips on Horatio's hips and ran them firmly up his sides, feeling the bumps of his ribcage and sliding up to grasp the tops of his shoulders, holding him so Speed could press his chest into his lover's abused back. "I'm right here, Cain," he growled, hooking his chin over the redhead's taller shoulder.

Horatio sagged noticeably, seemingly not feeling all the cuts on his back. "Oh, thank God…"

Speed made his voice light and casual. "Come on, did you really think I was going to leave you like that?"

The redhead tilted his head back, resting it on Speed's hand without asking for permission. "May I speak, sir?"

"Go ahead, I'm listening. Tell me what's bothering you, H. Tell me what you're feeling." Speed could feel his lover relax at the use of his street name. He could be honest, here.

Horatio's voice dropped to the barest of whispers. "I lied the other day, about that nightmare. I still have it every now and then. Usually on days where I've had to use my weapon." He paused. "Let me look at you, _please_." Speed reached up and tugged the blindfold high enough that Horatio could twist and see him with one startling blue eye, rimmed with tears. "Speed, I don't know if I can handle losing you. Just the thought of you _not being there_ anymore, it just…" he stopped.

Speed kept his voice just as low as the redhead's. "H, I'm not going anywhere. We're tied to each other, you and me." His hand dropped back to Horatio's chest and gave a tug on the leather cord of his ring, for emphasis. "And I promised I wouldn't go anywhere, remember?"

Horatio nodded. "I remember."

"Replay that conversation. Word for word."

Speed felt the tremor in the older man's legs. "Speed, please—"

"Do it," Speed said quickly. Realizing how harsh it sounded, he softened his voice with effort. "Do it for me, please."

Horatio took a deep breath. In his mind, he saw the blood, saw the flashing bullets. His mind heard the popping of gunfire. He heard the hideous noise of Speed hitting the ground, the sounds of flesh and bone striking tile. He saw Speed lying there, bleeding. Memory nudged into nightmare, and suddenly he couldn't decide if his lover was hit in the heart or the shoulder or both. He was injured, he was dying. He was leaving.

Leaving Horatio all alone.

His mind insisted that Speed was the injured one, but Horatio felt the tearing pain in his heart as well… the feeling of abandonment, that some force was tearing Speed away from him, ripping his lover out of his heart.

"Stay with me, Speed," he whispered. "Don't leave me."

"I'm right here, H. I'm not going anywhere." Speed was trying to reassure his lover, and at the same time he realized that their roles had somehow switched in the redhead's mind, matching their current situation so that Speed was the one that was in control, that Horatio was the one that was desperate and helpless. Fact, fiction, and façade were blurring into a blinding, confusing mix. _If I'm having this much trouble sorting it out,_ Speed thought, _what the hell is he seeing?_ "I'm staying right here, you hear me?" He put his hand firmly on Horatio's ribs, digging his fingers between the bones enough that the pain registered in his lover's mind, cutting through the memory. "I'm. Right. Here."

Horatio coughed at the pain. "Speed," he gasped. "I don't want to be anywhere else but here, because you're here."

"Remember that, H. I'm right here, and so are you. You hear me?"

Horatio finally nodded. "Loud and clear, Speed."

"You want down?" Speed asked, referring to the rack.

"Please, yes."

Speed reached down for the cuffs around Horatio's ankles, then the strap around his legs. The redhead's legs were trembling by the time he got to one wrist. "Deeps," a female whispered, and he turned to see Tabitha reaching for the redhead's other cuff. "Catch him. He needs to fall on you."

Speed nodded and wrapped his arms around Horatio's waist as the final restraint gave way, and the older man sagged onto his lover. They sank to their knees, Horatio burying his face in the younger man's neck, heavy sobs wracking his body. Speed just held him and whispered in his ear. Standing behind the redhead, Tabitha caught Speed's eye and rubbed the back of her neck. He nodded thanks at the reminder and moved one hand to that spot on his lover's body, massaging gently, and Horatio relaxed noticeably, shifting to sit against the floor, Speed still kneeling over him.

A tap on Speed's shoulder made him turn, and to his surprise he saw Mistress Pamela kneeling with a glass of water, which he took. She leaned in close enough that only he could hear her; Horatio was hardly in a state to notice. "_Master him_," she whispered. "You need to control this fear of his, before it takes him again."

She leaned back, and Speed gave a quick nod of thanks. "Hey, you want some water?" he asked his lover. Horatio nodded and started to look up when Speed tugged the blindfold back down. "I didn't say move. I asked you if you wanted some water, Cain."

Horatio slipped back into his role instantly. "Please," he whispered. _Please keep going, please don't make me think anymore_.

Speed nudged the glass to Horatio's lips. "Go on, take a drink." He held the glass as the redhead tilted his head back, and as Horatio drank, Speed could feel the tremors finally going away. "I'm glad you finally told me what was bothering you. Do you feel better now?"

"Yes, sir," Horatio said quietly as the glass disappeared from his lips.

Speed waited. "Do you think I was right to do it?"

Horatio had to think about that one. Then, finally, he nodded. "Anything you do to me has always been for my own good, sir."

Speed gave a relieved smile, but his voice never changed. "Good to see we're on the same page, Cain. Now what do you say?"

Horatio smiled, the tears drying on his cheeks. "Thank you, sir."

"Very good," Speed praised, running his fingers through his lover's wildly askew copper hair, trying to straighten it. "And I'm not mad at you. You've been a lot worse than tonight."

The older man dared a cheeky grin. "But I've still been a poor slave tonight, haven't I, sir?"

"Oh yes, horrible." Speed leaned in, his breath falling on his lover's ear. "I'm going to have to correct that, and soon. Before it becomes habit." Horatio's mouth fell open just a little when Speed clipped the leash back on to his collar.

Another voice cut in. "I have to say, that was one of the most intense scenes I've seen in a while," Mistress Pamela remarked, and Horatio froze.

"Mistress?" he said incredulously, and Speed gave a pointed tug on the redhead's leash. Quickly Horatio pulled himself together, kneeling with his legs spread as he put himself back into his pants and zipped up, and then placed his hands palms-down on his thighs. Casually Speed reached behind his slave and zipped up his ass.

"Forgive me if I interrupted your scene, Mr. Deeps," she said smoothly as Speed rose, self-consciously stuffing himself back into his pants. "Jaelix told me that you had Cain _crying_. I simply wanted to make sure everything was all right." Indeed, standing behind her was the huge, living shadow, who smiled sheepishly.

Speed gave a crooked grin. "And to see it for yourself, huh?" He leaned his thigh against Horatio's shoulder, and the redhead automatically shifted to rest his head on his lover's leg. "Sorry if it pulled you out of anything, Mistress. He just needed to get some stuff out of his system."

"I was unoccupied, Mr. Deeps." She looked down at the kneeling, blindfolded man. "I'm impressed with the bond you have with him. Tabitha told me that she's never gotten him that far. Even I have never been able to push him to that point."

Speed raised an eyebrow; for the Mistress of the Club, that was saying something. A dirty little thought pushed its way to the forefront, and he grinned. "Want to do a little pushing of your own, Mistress?"

She tilted her head. "What did you have in mind, Mr. Deeps?"

He gave a casual shrug and a wink. "I still need to punish him for something he did earlier. He was trying to rub himself on the bars when I told him to stay still." He could feel Horatio stiffen against his leg, and he grinned again.

Mistress Pamela restrained a laugh, her face smiling. "I would be more than happy to assist you, Mr. Deeps. Care to join me in my private quarters?"

Pamela led the way up through the club to her office. Jaelix flanked her, putting on his 'Monitor behavior' to keep people out of their way as the quartet climbed the stairs. Kalishnikov was nowhere to be seen, so Jaelix posted himself at the entrance to the office as Pamela and her guests stepped inside.

Once the door closed behind them, Speed beckoned Pamela close, pressing his lips so close to her ear that he didn't use his vocal chords at all; he simply let his lips shape the exhale. "I want to fuck him in your window. Pretend it's your mirror."

She drew back, showing no reaction other than a slight lifting of her pencil-thin eyebrows. But there was a definite twinkle in her eye as she nodded at him. "Mr. Deeps," she began, "when you were in here earlier, you failed to notice my new acquisition."

He paused as though looking to where she was 'pointing.' "Oh, nice mirror."

"Thank you. Take a closer look, if you would."

Speed placed a hand on Horatio's head. "Stay put, Pet," he murmured as he walked over to the blank wall nearby. "Mistress… Are those handprints?"

"Mm-hmm." Her reply was entirely too self-satisfied. "It was beautiful, to be able to stare into his eyes as I ordered him to take me from behind. Perhaps you would do the same thing to your pet? Be able to see every look that crossed his face as you take him?"

"Sounds like a good idea." He looked down at Horatio, who had his brows furrowed in confusion. Funny, Horatio didn't remember a mirror being in here. Speed knew that Horatio had an impeccable sense of direction, as well as a close attention to detail that would put some photographic memories to shame. Horatio could take a _glance_ at a children's book and, several hours later, remember which library had been printed on the barcode sticker.

This one was going to be a little tough to pull off.

An idea was forming in his head, but to make it work, Horatio would have to disobey him first, and he was getting deep into the submissive headspace, which would make that difficult. He thought hard about how to make it work, and suddenly… he had it. "Cain?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Come here." He paused, seeing the top of Horatio's head move behind Pamela's massive oaken desk. "Watch your head!" he snapped, just in time. "Sorry… you can't see. Guess you'll just have to feel your way with your hands. Come on, follow my voice."

Horatio stumbled around the desk, looking for all the world like a nearly blind man searching for his glasses as he crawled across the floor. Finally he must have done it right, because he felt Speed's hand on his head. "Good pet," Speed praised. "I want you to do something for me."

"Anything, sir."

"I thought you'd say that," the brunette said smugly. "I want you to unzip your pants and start playing with yourself."

Horatio froze. He'd almost rather be fucked in public than get caught masturbating, and Speed knew it. "Something wrong, Pet?"

The redhead's voice cracked. "No, sir."

"Then get to it. I want to watch you pleasure yourself, but don't you dare come. Good things will happen if you obey me, Pet."

Horatio swallowed and dutifully unzipped his fly, reaching in and pulling out his limp cock. "Cain, is there a problem? You're barely even hard."

"Sorry, sir. I'm…"

"I know, I know," Speed soothed. "You're not used to somebody watching. Well, maybe I can give you something to work with." He stepped over to his kneeling lover and squatted down. "Just imagine what I'm going to do to you. I'm going to bend you over and take you standing up. I'm going to be staring into your face while I put my dick in you, and I'm going to be watching every move you make while I fuck your brains out."

Horatio's cock began to swell; he loved it when Speed talked dirty. "Touch yourself, Pet. Think about me fucking you."

A slight flush began to creep up Horatio's neck as he took himself in his hand and began stroking slowly. "That's it," Speed crooned as he reached over to take gentle hold of one nipple, rolling it between thumb and forefinger. "Make some noise for me, pet. Tell me how much you like the idea of feeling me slide into you, fucking you hard and slow."

Horatio bit off a moan as his hand slid loosely up and down his hardening shaft. "Get your hand wet, Cain. Play with your balls." The redhead did as he was told, stifling a moan as he rolled his sac in one palm. He licked his palm and gripped his cock more tightly, squeezing the head and maintaining pressure all the way down to the root, and back up. "Make some noise, Cain."

Horatio gave a choked groan. He usually wasn't very vocal unless he was being fucked. Very little about dick stimulation made him feel the need to make some noise, so unfortunately he would have to fake his moans.

A hand landed firmly on Horatio's upper arm, and the redhead's dark world went spinning as he rolled onto his side and then his back, having been spun so that he'd lost his sense of direction. "I told you to make noise, Cain," Speed said with a definite edge in his voice. He reached down and pinched both of his lover's nipples, hard, and Horatio made a sound that was halfway between a moan and a grunt. "I would have figured that the thought of me bending you over and fucking your brains out would be a lot more stimulating to you than that."

It took Horatio a moment to find his voice. Speed had never really shoved him around before. He wasn't hurt, but it had definitely startled him. "I meant no disrespect, sir. Please forgive mmmmph." His words were cut off by Speed's mouth descending to his own, capturing his lips, forcing his tongue into Horatio's mouth, claiming him. A genuine moan worked its way up Horatio's throat.

"That's it, Pet," Speed whispered as he drew back for air. "Make some noise for me." He leaned back down to reclaim his lover's mouth, one of his hands reaching for Horatio's dick and pumping it with smooth strokes, and Horatio groaned and writhed. "Let's get you out of these," Speed murmured, tugging at Horatio's shirt, pants, and sandals. He bent down until he hovered above the redhead's erect cock. "Strip, Pet," he growled as he swallowed the rod. Horatio groaned and did his best to pull his clothing off. Speed was merciful and helped him out with his pants and sandals.

When Horatio was naked, Speed began going to work on his own clothes. Thankfully he wore the leather vest which meant that he didn't have to take his lips off Horatio's dick. It was a bit awkward to tug his pants off while he was kneeling, but he froze when he felt Mistress Pamela's hands on his hips, helping him tug his pants down. He swallowed, remembered that it was _Pamela_, and allowed her to help.

Once Pamela had stepped back, Speed let go of the redhead's cock and grabbed his collar, bodily hauling him to his knees and almost trying to drag him across the room. Horatio, slightly blindsided by the sudden change of action, quickly struggled to comply as Speed pulled him to his feet and tugged him forward until he felt smooth glass against one hand.

"Hands on the mirror, Pet," Speed murmured. "I want to watch myself fuck you."

Horatio groaned and pressed his palms against the glass, bending over as he did, offering himself. Speed gave a dark chuckle and traced a finger along the curve of one tight asscheek, moving up to the skin stretched taut against the tailbone. Speed flattened his hand on that firm patch, sliding down to press against the tight pucker with his thumb.

"You want it, don't you?" Speed growled.

"Yes, sir. Fuck me, sir, please."

Speed gave an evil chuckle. "In front of Mistress Pamela?"

There was an almost imperceptible pause. "Wherever you wish me, sir. However you wish me. Take me, sir, however you see fit."

"Good pet," Speed praised, pressing more firmly against the tight ring of muscle. He could feel it clench and relax in response to his teasing, and he hid his laugh at the situation. If only Horatio knew…

His eyes traveled past his lover, to the window and the people on the other side. Only a few people had noticed them, but several of those that hadn't were following the gazes of the ones that had, trying to figure out what they were looking at. _Oh, H is going to kill me for this_.

Pamela tapped him on the shoulder, holding out a bottle of lube and a condom, and he took it with a nod of thanks. He'd like to fuck his lover bareback at least once tonight, but Horatio had been bleeding earlier, and Pamela was a hygiene nazi. He rolled the condom onto himself and covered his length and two fingers with lube, handing the bottle and the wrapper back to the Lady. She smiled and went back to her desk, seating herself with a smile that was entirely too self-satisfied.

Speed stuck his slick fingers into his lover without any warning, finding the passage still open and slick. He gave a wicked grin as he gripped Horatio's hips, steeled himself, and plunged home in a single buck of his hips. Horatio bit back a shout as Speed immediately started to fuck him hard.

By now, lots of people were looking on with interest. Speed would've liked to say that it was because of him, but that was only partly true. Master Cain was one of the most sought-after Doms in the club, but the only man he would sub to was his lover, Mr. Deeps. And Mr. Deeps was a fine Dom in his own right; several people had fantasies about him topping them. Too bad for them, because he didn't want to; the only man he was interested in, when it came to dominance or submission, was Master Cain.

True, they had physical fun with other slaves from time to time—Speed would never forget the time that Felix and Jaelix had both joined them for a romp—but Master Cain had always been the one in control. Truly, Mr. Deeps was the only man capable of making his lover beg.

He leaned forward again, capturing Horatio's ear. "I have a confession to make, Cain. Would you like to know what it is?"

Horatio's breath hitched. "What's that, sir?"

The redhead could feel Speed grinning like a maniac. "You're on display. Half the club is standing around, watching you get your brains fucked out."

Horatio's breath caught in his throat, and he froze. "I thought we were back in the Mistress's quarters."

"Not quite." Speed savored the moment before whispering, "We're in her office."

Horatio paid special attentions to his hands, and the hard, glassy surface beneath them. "This isn't a mirror." It wasn't a question.

Speed drew his hips back and thrust hard, causing the redhead to brace against the glass more firmly. "Nope. It's her window."

Horatio gave a choked moan as Speed reached up to tug off the blindfold. When his blue eyes opened, he was exactly as Speed had said: naked, standing in the window, pressed against the glass with his lover buried balls-deep in his ass. Through the nearly inch-thick pane, he could see the bar area and dance floor, and indeed there were a _lot_ of people observing them.

An electric jolt ran through Speed's body at the sight of so many people watching Horatio take him from behind. Horatio had the opposite reaction, and Speed realized it instantly. His redhead still had his damn aversion to public displays, especially when he bottomed, and he had to correct that. "Know what the best part is, H?" Speed whispered evilly, grinding his hips hard.

"What's that?" Horatio asked, unable to tear his eyes from the crowd. He was shrinking, and they both knew it. Hell, now the whole crowd knew it.

"_They don't care_." Speed reached around to grasp his lover's flagging erection. "You're not Horatio here, you're Cain. Nobody's gonna hate you. Nobody's gonna arrest you."

Pamela made a noise small enough for Speed to hear, and he turned enough to see her mouth the words 'may I?' at him. Speed nodded. "Cain," she said smoothly, and the redhead twisted around in shock at her presence. "Mr. Deeps knows what he's doing. Give in to him." She stood and walked over to him, her posture and voice saying she was in complete control. "You're being a very bad pet, you know."

Speed made his voice growl, trying to contain a laugh. "Tell me about it. I go and rig all this up for him, and now he gets stage fright." His hand on Horatio's cock gave it a few pumps, and he could feel the blood inside hesitate on its way to the rest of his body. "Don't make me tie you up again, Cain."

Pamela clasped her hands in front of her. "Mr. Deeps, if I may offer some assistance? I don't want to overstep with your slave."

Speed released Horatio's dick with a frustrated sigh, coming to a stop in his lover's body. "Go ahead. Maybe I should give him to you for a little while."

That did it. The words hit Horatio, and he finally cleared his head. Screw the people watching him; he was becoming a very large disappointment to the one person that really mattered. "Please don't, sir."

Speed put his hands on Horatio's hips. "Why shouldn't I? You're not even pleasing me anymore."

Horatio ducked his head, his voice cracking. "It's all the people, sir. I don't think I can come with them watching."

Speed was disappointed, but he had to accept it. "Fine. I'll give you one more chance. After that, the Mistress gets you for the rest of the night."

"Whatever you will, sir." Speed pulled out, and Horatio instantly dropped to a kneel, turning around to kiss his lover's feet. "Don't send me away, sir. I want to please _you_."

Speed looked at Pamela, who drew the blinds. Even through the thick glass and the insulation of the walls, they could hear a disappointed groan coming from the crowd below, and it made him grin. "Cain, you really want to please me?"

"Yes, sir." Horatio sat on his heels, face lowered.

Pamela stepped over to Speed, whispering in his ear. He listened, nodded, and reached down to put a finger under Horatio's chin, tilting the man's head up to face him. "Pet," he said softly, "Mistress Pamela has asked me for a favor. She wants to watch me fuck you again."

Horatio's eyes flicked involuntarily to the Lady, but Speed's hand on his chin jerked him back. "Don't make me remind you that this is your last chance tonight," Speed growled. "She'll be the only one in the room besides us. She has clearly expressed desire to see you get off, and I've promised her that I can make that happen." He leaned down for emphasis. "Are you going to make me a liar?"

Horatio's face took on a hurt expression. "No, sir, I would never—"

"Then what are you waiting for?" Speed interrupted, straightening and dropping his hands to his sides. "Get this condom off me and get me hard again."

Horatio's eyes widened and he reached for Speed's cock, peeling off the Latex. For a moment he was unsure as to what to do with it, but Pamela rescued him by holding out the small trash can that stayed under her desk. He dropped it in, his hands returning to Speed's cock, and the little bin disappeared back under her desk. Horatio leaned forward, nuzzling his lover's balls, one hand pumping Speed's already-hardening dick while the other ran a worshipping palm up his thigh.

"It's a shame you don't like females, Mr. Deeps," Pamela cut in with a sigh. "I would love to touch you right now."

Speed gave a little grin and indicated his lover, who had gently sucked both balls into his mouth. "He has a theory on that one. He thinks a woman could still get me hard; it's how men are wired up, after all. It's just the thought of fucking one that turns me off." And true to his words, his erection flagged noticeably. Horatio made a growling noise and abandoned the balls to capture Speed's dick in his mouth.

She tilted her head at him, eyes playful. "May we test that theory?"

Speed made a face, snorted, and shook his head with a grin. "Maybe some other time. Right now, I'm still waiting on him to distract me." The moment he said the word 'waiting,' Horatio took a breath and took Speed all the way in, relaxing his throat and suppressing the gag reflex. Perfect timing; Speed's voice cracked on the word 'distract,' and Horatio smiled into his lover's pubic hair.

Speed's eyes closed. "Smartass," he whispered, hands coming down to tangle in Horatio's hair as the redhead pulled back for air.

"I didn't want to keep you waiting, sir," Horatio murmured with a twinkle in his eye, deep-throating his lover again before Speed could reply.

"Oh, you're gonna pay for that one," Speed growled, holding Horatio's head firmly still. He reared his hips back and began fucking the redhead's face, gently.

Behind the kneeling slave, Pamela held up a small riding crop, and Speed nodded. Without warning, she tapped it hard on Horatio's shoulder, and he jumped. He tried to look back but Speed held him still, hips never ceasing. "She's punishing you for all the handprints on her window, Cain," Speed said with a laugh that was completely at odds with the arousal on his face. "If you want to call safeword, tap me on the leg, okay?"

Horatio's response was to grasp Speed's thighs firmly with both hands, tightening the suction on his lover's thrusting cock, and Speed nodded at Pamela. She lifted it again, bringing it down on his other shoulder, and he gave a low growl that sent vibrations coursing through Speed's groin. "Keep going, Pet, but don't you dare make me come yet," he hissed, stilling his hips.

Speed stood there with his hands threaded through Horatio's hair as the older man resumed sucking his lover's roaring erection, growling noises emanating from his throat at every solid _whack!_ of the Mistress's crop. There was no way she was going to break the skin, especially not with the bandages in place, but she was still doing an excellent job of aggravating the wounds he'd already received that evening, and his brain returned to the dark, warm fog of submission.

Horatio no longer cared about his orgasm, or the crowd, or problems at work, or anything. All he cared about was letting the pain take him away, floating away on the calm until there was nothing but himself and Speed. All that mattered was making Speed happy. His lover. His master. He could feel his eyes welling up with tears; he did that whenever he reached this point. It was his body's physical indication that he was completely submissive. His world had closed down to one tiny thing, and that was Speed's wishes.

They built a rhythm, the crop falling across his back every time he pulled away from his lover, and tears began to spill from his tightly closed eyes. Speed properly read the signal, knowing it to be the redhead's involuntary response to complete and total submission, and he nodded at Pamela. She nodded back and grasped the tip of her weapon with her off hand. "That's enough, Cain," Speed ordered, releasing his deathgrip on his lover's hair.

Instantly Horatio released him, his palms returning to his thighs, eyes to the ground. Small shudders wracked his body, and Pamela could see the red circles oozing to the top of the bandages.

"Stand up, Cain," Speed said calmly, ignoring his raging hard-on, and his lover wasted no time climbing to his feet. "Stand still, and put your hands out to the sides, 45-degree angle." Horatio did as he was told. "Look at me." Slowly the blue eyes locked onto his lover's deep brown ones, reading the love and approval there. "I want to give you a little reward, before you perform for the Mistress."

Horatio dared to lift his eyebrows slightly as Speed reached for him, tweaking a nipple. Horatio made a small noise in the back of his throat, eyes starting to close. "Cain, keep looking at me," Speed growled softly. The eyes returned to him. "I want you to keep your eyes on me, and don't you dare move." Both of Speed's hands were on Horatio's chest, threading through the wiry red curls, as Speed leaned forward and placed a light kiss on his lover's lips. When Horatio didn't respond, Speed gave a little grin. "You can kiss me back, ya know. Just don't move anything else."

That was all the signal Horatio needed to open his mouth as Speed claimed his lips again, the redhead hungrily devouring his lover's tongue as Speed's hands slid over his chest, possessing him, teasing his nipples. His arms were rigid and stiff as he kept still, fighting the urge to respond, to wrap his arms around the younger man and hold him close. Speed's hands roamed lower, to his hips, and one hand snaked behind him to grab a firm handful of his ass, and he groaned into the kiss.

He fought to keep his eyes open, to keep looking at Speed, but pain and lust had made his eyelids so heavy and it was all he could do to keep them from rolling back into his head as Speed's other hand roughly grabbed his throbbing length, pumping it with firm strokes. Horatio groaned again and Speed broke the kiss with a gasp, his own eyes heavy. "Don't move," he reminded as he slid slowly to his knees.

Horatio couldn't have moved if he wanted to; his arms ached from being held so rigid, and now Speed was on his knees, staring up at him. Speed gave the head a teasing little lick, feeling his lover's legs tremble. "You're so responsive," Speed whispered wonderingly as he licked again. "I love that in you," he confessed as he took the head in his mouth, and Horatio's legs shook.

Pamela stepped to where Speed could see her, her hands empty. "May I touch your pet, Mr. Deeps?" she asked softly, and he nodded as he slid his lips slowly down his lover's cock. Horatio's entire being was focused on keeping his eyes on Speed as the younger man sucked him at a maddeningly slow pace, and now Pamela stepped behind him to reach underneath his arms to his chest, finding his nipples and teasing him. "I've been wanting to try this on him for a while," she admitted, being tall enough to press her lips against the back of Horatio's neck, just above his collar.

One leg gave a firm twitch as his eyes finally closed against his will; the Lady started nibbling on the sensitive skin, and Speed took the redhead completely down his throat. Mindless noises vibrated from Horatio's windpipe as he simply stood there, letting the other two pleasure him. Possess him. Master him.

"Mr. Deeps," Pamela murmured sensually. "The door on the other side of my office leads to my private playroom. Would you like to take this in there?"

Speed released his lover with a loud sucking noise. "I think I would," he replied as he climbed to his feet. Horatio made a noise not unlike a whimper, bemoaning the loss of sensations, and Speed reached out to grab another fistful of the redhead's hair on the back of his neck. Horatio gave another shuddering groan and dropped to his knees without a word. "Good Pet," Speed praised, tugging on his lover's leash, and Horatio followed him eagerly.

Pamela lead the way, holding the door open as Speed and his pet redhead passed through it and into the room beyond. There was a table, a few overstuffed chairs, a rather comfortable-looking loveseat, and a massive four-poster bed with sleigh-style head- and footboards. Speed guided his lover to one side of the bed, allowing the redhead to stand in order to climb onto the high mattress, and the brunette shot a devious look at Mistress Pamela. The lady had settled on the loveseat, one elbow on the armrest and her chin in her palm, watching with hooded eyes but otherwise not moving.

Speed encouraged Horatio to kneel on the bed while the younger man climbed up behind him, lying on his back. "Mistress, you have condoms and lube in here?" Speed asked.

She nodded. "The drawer to your pet's left," she replied, and Horatio reached over without a word to grab the necessities.

Speed stroked himself idly. "Pet, you may suck on me a little more."

Horatio swooped down and swallowed his lover's cock without a word, and Speed hissed as the talented mouth went to work on him with wild abandon. All too soon, Speed had to push the redhead's shoulders back lest he shoot off prematurely. "Easy, lover," Speed growled softly. "Get my dick ready for you."

Wordlessly Horatio tore the little foil square and unrolled the condom on his Master's aching erection, slicking it up with the lube. "May I ride you, sir?" he murmured eagerly.

Speed snickered. "You're damn right you may. Sit on this dick, Pet."

Horatio moved quickly, straddling the younger man's hips and aiming with one hand as he sank carefully down. Speed slid home with a sigh, gripping the redhead's hips to hold him still, grinding into that tight heat and making his lover's hands twitch. "You wanna ride this cock, don't you?" Speed growled, reaching for the older man's dick. Horatio groaned as Speed's other hand encouraged the redhead to rise up a little, and Horatio did.

Speed pumped him hard, whispering wordless things about what he would do to him, such great and terrible things. Horatio's eyes were clouded with lust, mouth moving but no sounds coming out as Speed manhandled him, quickly building momentum until he was slamming into that dark, hot crevice that gripped him and stroked him with every thrust.

Horatio bit his lip, fighting back orgasm. This was the third time he'd been fucked tonight and he was desperate to come, but to do so without Speed's approval was unthinkable. He fought to stay in his submissive headspace but his body had other ideas. "Sir," he choked out, half begging, half warning.

Speed gave him a knowing look. "Would you like to show me your appreciation for all I've done for you tonight?"

"Oh, yes sir, please sir!"

"All right, then, Horatio!" Speed thundered. "I want you to _come!!!_"

Horatio reared his head back. _"Yes, SIR!!!"_ he roared, gripping the edge of the headboard with enough force that he could feel his knuckles protesting. The order snapped through Horatio's consciousness, lodging in his brain and sending signals down his spine to his aching cock. His entire body became one clenched muscle, gripping his lover tight, and then Speed nudged his prostate one more time and he was coming hard, shaking, incoherent words spilling from his lips as his length quivered and spurted, shooting thick white streamers into the polished wood that spattered and dripped down to the mattress next to the younger man's head. His entire world went dark, silent, and the only things that existed were Speed's words and Speed's hands and Speed's dick inside him, and his entire body shuddered.

"Good boy," Speed snarled, unexpectedly bucking his hips and swinging his legs to roll a started Horatio backward, and suddenly Horatio was staring up at his lover with his legs wrapped around the sturdy waist, and Speed held his legs apart and began pounding him again. One of Speed's hands moved to grab his dripping cock, wringing the last few drops from it, and Horatio gave a mindless scream as Speed buried himself to the hilt, a wild shout tearing from his lips as he came inside the overwhelming tight heat of his lover, his cock spurting and coating the walls of the condom with his seed.

Speed hovered above the redhead, gasping, studying his pet. Horatio's eyes were closed, glorying in the post-orgasmic aftershocks, so he didn't see Pamela nod to Speed and slip back out into her office. Carefully Speed pulled out, ignoring the whisper of loss from his lover as he sat on the edge of the bed and peeled off the condom, locating the wastebasket and baby wipes in the nightstand. He cleaned off himself and his lover, and as an afterthought, did his best to wipe up the white spatter on the headboard.

By this time, Horatio seemed to have mostly recovered. "Sit up for me, Pet," Speed ordered softly, and Horatio wearily pulled himself upright. He'd really been jumping through hoops all night, and Speed was ready to give him a rest. "You may kiss me freely."

Horatio leaned forward on his knees, capturing his younger lover's lips, thanking him wordlessly for everything he'd done. Speed allowed himself to be momentarily swept away by the sensations, but finally, regretfully, he pulled back.

Speed pulled Horatio down onto the bed and wrapped his arms around him in a crushing hug. "That was very good, Pet."

"Thank you, sir."

"Would you like to touch me?"

"I would, sir, thank you." Horatio rolled in Speed's embrace until they were facing each other and ran his hands along his lover's body, giving silent thanks for all that Speed had done for him tonight. "May I rub your shoulder, sir?"

Speed thought it was a wonderful idea and rolled onto the appropriate side so Horatio could get to his right shoulder. The slim hands gripped the joint with gentle strength, easing the soreness that had accumulated during the evening. Speed sighed and sank into the bed as Horatio worked his magic. "Cain?" Speed mumbled into the pillow.

"Yes, sir?"

"You keep that up, you're going to put me to sleep."

With Speed facing away from him, Horatio smiled broadly. "Sorry, sir."

"Lay down and cover up. I wanna lay here for a while."

Horatio was most agreeable, leaning up to grab the bedsheets and pulling them over their bodies. He snuggled close to the younger man, pressing into Speed's back and draping an arm over his waist, pressing a gentle kiss into the brunette's neck. "Thank you, sir," Horatio murmured. "For everything."

A quiet knock on the door startled them, and Speed looked up. "Yes?"

The door cracked open and Kalishnikov appeared, kneeling to lay two neatly folded piles of clothing on the floor and adding the sandals. "Mistress Pamela says that these are yours, sirs, for whenever you wish to get dressed. No rush, she said."

"Tell your Mistress that I said thank you, Nik," Speed told the man, who nodded and backed out into the Mistress' office, pulling the door closed behind him.

They lay there quietly for a few minutes more. "Cain?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Go grab those clothes and bring them over here, would you?"

"Yes, sir." Horatio slid out of the bed and darted to the doorway, picking up the two bundles. He brought them back over to the bed, where Speed had sat up.

"Dress me, Pet."

Horatio selected Speed's bundle of clothing and grabbed the leather vest, sliding it over his lover's arms and bringing it snugly to rest. The pants were next, and Horatio wordlessly encouraged the younger man to stand so he could step into the jeans, hands on the redhead's shoulders for support. When Horatio finished buckling the belt and zipping him back up, Speed sat back down so Horatio could put on his sandals.

"Good, Pet," Speed praised. "Now dress yourself."

Horatio did so quickly, struggling to squirm into the tight leather pants. He gave a quiet hiss as he slid his shirt over his head and ran over the bandages. Adjusting the shirt, he absently straightened his hair as he bent to put his sandals on.

"Kneel for me, Cain."

Horatio dropped to his knees.

"You may thank me."

Horatio kissed the tops of his Master's sandals. "Thank you, sir."

Speed tousled his lover's hair for a bit, and finally moved to unclip Horatio's leash with a sigh. "All right, H, level out."

Horatio looked up. At Speed's nod, he stood and stretched, wincing slightly at the tenderness in his back. "I'll be feeling that in the morning," he muttered, smoothing his hair back into place.

Speed grinned up at him. "So how'd I do tonight?"

Horatio turned to look at him, eyes darkening with pure affection. Swiftly he fell upon his lover, raining kisses all over his face, and Speed couldn't decide whether he wanted to laugh or moan. Finally they settled down, Horatio still on top. "You were perfect, Speed, absolutely perfect."

"Thanks. I figured you needed this."

"I did, Speed, I really did. Thank you." Horatio fastened his too-blue eyes on his lover, bending down for another sweet kiss.

"I love you, H," Speed whispered.

Horatio gave a tender smile. "I love you, too, Speed. And now," he sat up, making a grab for the leash, "it's your turn."

Speed's eyes widened. "Oh, no you don't. No more floggings tonight."

Horatio almost pouted. "Please, Speed? At least go walking with me. I've seen so many unfamiliar faces tonight, and the ones I _did_ recognize, I mostly haven't seen for the last six months."

Speed sighed. Pouting was another thing Horatio did so rarely, but when he did… it was impossible to say no. "Fine. Just to say hi to all our friends, and then we're going home. Deal?"

"Deal."

Speed grinned. "Then by all means, please dominate me, Master Cain."

Horatio gave him a look in return, one so full of lust that Speed was surprised he didn't catch fire. "With pleasure, Mr. Deeps." With that, the redhead took the leash and clipped it to his lover's collar, and they stood. Before Speed could kneel, Horatio cupped his chin gently and kissed him.

Speed gave a little moan and opened his mouth, inviting his lover's tongue, but it didn't come. He cracked open one eye, seeing Horatio watching him. The redhead pulled back, a gentle smile on his face. "That was for this evening," he explained. "I'll give you a moment to get into the mindset."

Speed eyed him for a moment. "May I?"

"You may."

A pause. "You're gonna make me crawl, aren't you?"

Horatio smiled broadly. "You bet your ass I am. Now," and he pointed to the floor, "on your knees, Deeps."

Speed gave a sheepish grin and dropped to the carpet. "Yes, sir."

They re-entered the Mistress's office, at which she gave a short laugh and a clap of her hands. "I had a feeling that was coming," she said, indicating Speed trundling along behind the redhead.

Horatio gave a shy smile. "He deserves it."

She nodded. "He deserves a lot of things, and you're just the man to give them to him. And by the way…" She pointed to the window and its re-opened blinds, to which Horatio stepped with Speed kneeling next to him. Below them, somebody in the crowd noticed and pointed up. From the crush of people came laughter from some, cheers from others, as Horatio made a show of tugging on his lover's leash to leave the office.

Jaelix was standing in the stairwell, and upon the sight of his old friends he couldn't help but burst out laughing. "Damn, Deeps! Payback's a bitch, ain't it?"

Horatio chuckled back; Speed was too busy crawling down the steps. "Thank you for looking out for us, Jaelix."

The big man gave a friendly shrug as Speed finally reached the landing. "No problem, Cain. Or should I say 'Master Cain,' now?"

Footsteps echoed, and Horatio turned to see Felix climbing the stairs. "Ask the bitch who's master!" Felix called with a grin.

Horatio waited until Speed regained his balance. "Well, Deeps?"

Speed looked up at him. "Yes, Master Cain?"

Felix gave an evil laugh. "Good boy!"

Horatio knew what his lover wanted, without even asking. "Go ahead, Pet." Immediately Speed twisted his upper half to face Felix, giving him a dark glare and flipping him off with both hands. Horatio chuckled and laid his hand on Speed's hair, ruffling the dark curls affectionately, and Speed returned to his submissive posture.

"Thank you, sir," Speed muttered to the floor. Felix had stumbled at Speed's 'outburst,' but Jaelix had doubled over and was laughing hard.

"You shoulda seen that one comin', Felix my man!" Jaelix howled.

Horatio tugged at the leash. "You may walk, Deeps."

Speed gratefully climbed to his feet. "_Thank you_, sir."

"So where are you two headed now?" Felix inquired.

Horatio gave a too-casual tilt of his head. "Oh, we're just going to walk around for a while."

Jaelix shrugged. "Well, whatever. You guys are gonna start comin' back once a week, right?"

Horatio nodded. "Our schedules permitting, we will."

"Good," Jaelix replied. "Now get his bitchy ass back out there. You gotta pay him back for that little stunt he just pulled."

Horatio gave a dark smile. "Oh, I'm going to. Come along, Pet."

Felix and Jaelix gave casual waves as Horatio and Speed headed down the stairs. Rounding the corner, Horatio led his pet to the edge of the dance floor, and Speed halted. Mercifully, Horatio halted as well.

On his little pedestal at the head of the dance floor, one Deejay held one hand to his oversized headphones as he worked his synthesizers while the other Deejay backed him up. Despite the fact that neither Speed nor Horatio were avid listeners of techno music, they'd been here enough times to recognize Darude versus Robert Miles, doing '_Children of the Sandstorm_.'

The dance floor and the nearby bar/lounge took up most of the lower story of the club, and was the main reason that a good two thirds of the club's patrons came to the place. Not everybody was a hardcore S&M player like Horatio or Speed. Most of the club's 'casual appeal' came from the fact that it was an 'all couples welcome' establishment. Intolerance of any sexual preference was prohibited. Violators were warned, and repeat offenders were barred from certain places in the club if not outright blacklisted.

The dance floor itself so large as to be almost cavernous, with generous helpings of platforms for the more daring dancers. The only illumination came from lights mounted on hidden brackets along the platforms, the walls, and the ceiling. There was actually a disco ball, too, with various colored lights aimed at it, and multicolored whirls played across the pulsing crowd in eye-catching spirals.

"We're going dancing, Deeps," Horatio said firmly, and he saw his lover's shoulders droop.

Speed _hated_ dancing.  
Truly, utterly hated it.

"What's the matter?" Horatio asked with an amused smile. "Would you rather I tie you up and beat you?"

"Honestly, sir?"

Horatio sighed. "No, don't answer that, I already know. But I would like to dance with you, at least for a little while."

Horatio led his lover out onto the dance floor, where they were immediately swallowed by the thronging crowd. Couples of all gender pairings—and a few that were more than couples—pressed against each other, swaying and grinding, lost in the music. Overhead, the lights flashed in time to the music, and Horatio noticed some Monitors roaming through the crowd, checking to make sure that nobody was doing drugs. Getting caught with anything illegal in the club was grounds for immediate blacklisting… with the chance of 'parole,' which amused Horatio to no end.

"Dance with me, Speed," Horatio whispered, letting the leash go slack. "Please."

Speed looked at him, his expression unreadable, and finally he sighed and gave a little grin. "All right, but just this once. I did put you through a lot tonight."

Horatio smiled. "Thank you." The leash slack, Horatio's hands persuaded Speed to turn his back so Horatio could move closely behind him, holding him as the next song started. Speed recognized it as a fairly good rendition of '_Blast The Speakers_' by the Warp Brothers.

Speed spread his arms slightly and closed his eyes, leaning his head back and shifting to the music as Horatio stood closely behind him, grasping his hips and grinding sensually into his ass. The redhead ran lips over his lover's shoulders as they dipped and swayed in time with the pulsing beats.

Despite the exertion of their earlier scenes, Speed felt himself getting hard again as Horatio ran possessive hands up his sides, along his shoulders, down his arms, slowly grasping his wrists and raising them over his head as he pressed himself firmly against Speed's denim-clad ass. Speed responded by slipping his hands down to grasp Horatio's head from behind, running fingers through the damp copper locks as Horatio hooked his chin over Speed's shoulder and ran teasing fingers back down his sides to rest at his hips again. It never failed to surprise Speed, what a lithe dancer Horatio was. The song changed, smoothly mixing into Crystal Method's '_High Roller_.'

Horatio, Speed realized, was a man of so many hidden talents, so many wonderful qualities that nobody else saw but him. He was a Dom and a tender lover both, a brilliant scientist and a dedicated cop both, so intelligent in the ways of the world and yet so utterly simple in his innocent love of Speed… It gave him a sudden burst of pride, and love, in his chest, and he gladly tossed away his hatred of dancing and allowed his lover to possess his body as solidly as he'd possessed his soul.

All too soon, the song ended, and Speed found that he was disappointed as one of the Deejays picked up the microphone. "All right, folks, take a half-hour break while we scrub the floors."

As ultra-hygienic as Mistress Pamela was, every surface in the club that got a lot of body fluids—like sweat dripping from a crowd of dancers—was given a good disinfecting scrub-and-mop every four hours. She was also firm about letting people rest from physical exertion. Horatio thought it was a good rule, and another reason that he liked this club so much, but he wished that it hadn't happened on only the third song they'd started dancing to. It took quite a bit of effort to get Speed to dance… or what he called dancing, anyway.

Horatio and Speed stepped regretfully off the dance floor, accidentally bumping into another pair of men. They turned and started to apologize, and stopped. One of them was a man that looked roughly fifty, his hair dark with a heavy dusting of gray, tall and distinguished-looking. He was also very familiar.

"Judge Haskill?" Speed couldn't stop from sputtering, albeit quietly. Horatio managed to remain silent, although his eyebrows were high.

The judge's gray eyes went wide. "Lieutenant Caine? And…?"

"Speedle, CSI level 3," Speed replied quietly.

Judge Samuel Haskill was quiet, considering both the ramifications of being recognized and the shock of Horatio's relationship, when Horatio rescued him by stepping in front of Speed and giving a tug on his slave's leash, the surprise jerk causing the younger man to stumble forward and land flush against Horatio's back. "Hey!" he protested.

Horatio looked at him over his shoulder. "Quiet, Pet."

Speed's eyes dropped. "Yes, sir."

The judge watched them quietly. Horatio stuck out his hand, as though meeting the man for the first time. "Pardon his manners. I'm Master Cain, and this unfortunately rude slave of mine is Mr. Deeps."

Haskill blinked, and suddenly laughed. It was the beauty of the atmosphere, that once you walked into this building, your outside reputation ceased to exist. "They call me Roe-ver," he smiled, shaking Horatio's hand. Horatio's keen eyes noted the blue ring around the judge's collar tag, as well as the unusual spelling, and he realized with amusement that it was the same spelling as His Honor's pet Chesapeake Bay retriever.

Haskill had run once for mayor and done poorly, partly because he was thought to be too young for the position—albeit a few years younger than Horatio. The main reason that his campaign had been rather unmemorable was his outspoken criticism of Roe versus Wade. "And this," Roe-ver said with an embarrassed smile, indicating his dance partner, "is Desi."

Desi—and the judge pronounced it "Dezzy"—was a slim Hispanic man that Horatio recognized as being a prominent member of the Miami Chamber of Commerce, with the first name of Richard. Horatio chuckled. "I get it."

Roe-ver furrowed his brows. "Get what?"

Speed was snickering in Horatio's ear. "May I, sir?"

"You may," the redhead replied.

Speed grinned at them. "Richard, Ricky, Ricky Ricardo played by Desi Arnaz… Desi."

The middle-aged Desi scratched his neck, the light flashing off his collar tag with the identical blue ring. "They said you CSIs were smart, but I didn't figure you for an 'I Love Lucy' fan."

"I'm not," Horatio admitted with a smile. "But that's what we do. We make connections."

"I can see that," Roe-ver said dryly, nodding at the leash that Horatio still held taut, keeping Speed firmly pressed against him. "So, you two are here for the leather thing, hmm?"

Horatio nodded. "All sorts of leather." He let the leash go slack a little. "Deeps, try not to dig into my wounds with your chin next time, all right?"

Speed fought down a snicker. "Sorry, sir."

Roe-ver blinked. "All kinds of leather… right." Desi looked puzzled, so His Honor explained. "They stay in the dungeon."

"Ah." Desi looked at them with the slightest hint of trepidation, and Horatio sighed inwardly. Despite the overwhelming tolerance of this place, there were still some people that just _didn't_ get it.

He turned to unclip Speed's leash and hand it to him. "Level out for now, Deeps."

Speed nodded understandingly and took the leash, slinging it over his shoulder and clipping the lead to the loop like a bandolier. "The dungeon's one reason why we come here," he confirmed. "Another one is the same reason that you two are probably here: nobody cares if you're fucking another guy."

On a normal day, Horatio would have acted embarrassed, apologized, and later berated Speed for his use of such strong language in front of officials of the City of Miami. Here, he simply gave his lover a firm swat on the ass. "Be polite."

"There you are!" A female voice called, and the group turned to see two attractive women making their way toward them. One of them, Horatio recognized as His Honor's wife. She also had a pink ring on her collar tag. She noticed them, recognized Horatio—Speed didn't do nearly as many public appearances—and halted. "Oh, I didn't realize…"

"It's all right, Hera. Master Cain and his slave were just making conversation," Roe-ver told her reassuringly.

She still looked unsure, so Speed stuck out his hand. "Mr. Deeps. I, uh, work for Master Cain, here. Don't worry, we're all here for the same thing."

"Which is?" she replied archly, her brow rising and ignoring the hand. Horatio's mouth twitched; Hera was _another_ anti-leather personality to deal with, and by far the most militant lesbian he'd met all night.

Horatio smiled soothingly. "Because, as my partner pointed out earlier, nobody cares if I do this here." And he turned and roughly grabbed two handfuls of Speed's ass, and the younger man yelped.

"Easy! I'm gonna get you back for that," Speed growled when Horatio let go.

"Oh? And how's that, Mr. Deeps?" Horatio asked in a husky murmur. "Are you going to blindfold me and plaster me to the window again?"

His Honor coughed. "You know, I _thought_ that was you up there, but I didn't believe myself."

Horatio gave a modest shrug, fighting down his embarrassment. "Normally I'm the one holding the leash, but I let him have it tonight. And you see where it got me."

Roe-ver smiled. "You know, I've been thinking about taking Desi down to the dungeon, just to see what you people do down there."

Desi turned to his lover. "You were?"

Horatio clicked his tongue. "It's not for the faint of heart, I'll admit."

Hera cut in. "I'm sure that's all very fascinating, Master Cain, but I simply came to remind my housemate of the time."

Roe-ver's eyes widened, and they all glanced at the glowing clock with its foot-tall luminescent numbers, mounted above the bar. It _was_ late. He turned back to Horatio and Speed with an apologetic smile. "Hate to cut this short, gentlemen, but she's right. I have to go back to being important now."

Horatio chuckled. "The price we pay." The four men shook hands, and Speed eyed Hera warily. Neither he nor Horatio attempted to shake her hand, and she didn't offer.

"Jesus," Speed muttered when the two pairs left. "She's an even colder lez than Tabitha."

"I have to say that I didn't see that coming," Horatio agreed with high brows. "They seemed like such a nice couple in public."

Speed gave him a funny look. "Doesn't this place count as public?"

Horatio had to think about it. "You know… I honestly don't know how I would answer that. It's more like a separate, private sect of the public."

Speed blinked. "It's a club, H. Try saying 'separate society' next time."

Horatio nodded. "That does sound a bit more accurate." He sighed, glancing at the clock again. "Unfortunately she's right. You know how early we get up in the mornings."

"How could I forget?" Speed grumbled.

Horatio smiled and hooked his arm around Speed's elbow. "Come on. Let's go home."

"I like the sound of that. Lead on, H."

And he did.

SIX MONTHS AFTER SHOOTING

Horatio wandered into the kitchen, his jacket over his arm. Another morning, another one of Speed's excellent breakfasts, and then it was off to work with him. As he lay his jacket over the back of one of the chairs, he took a moment to look at Speed standing over the stove, tending to the bacon with his left hand and the eggs with his right.

He remained silent as Speed began to flip the eggs, the younger man cursing as he nearly broke one. Horatio chose to give him a few minutes to calm down before announcing his presence. He did so by moving behind his lover and pressing his lips to the neck above the flimsy white t-shirt. "Good morning," he murmured.

Speed jumped a little, then relaxed. "Morning. You have fun last night?"

Horatio snorted and hooked his chin over the younger man's good shoulder, watching the hands move. "And how should I answer that?"

Speed tilted his head in lieu of a shrug, flipping another egg with less difficulty. "Well, considering you went on a cover date last night while I was out partying, I'd kinda like to know how it went."

Horatio gave a good-natured sigh. Going on a 'date' with a woman was something he did occasionally, to protect his reputation. Ironically enough, the women he 'dated' were usually either lesbians or close to it, trying to protect their own reputations. The ones that would sleep with him, he rarely did. Speed didn't mind him fucking the occasional woman as long as Horatio took a long and thorough shower when he got home.

"You first," Horatio said firmly, stepping back and allowing Speed to put the food onto plates covered with paper towels to soak up the grease. "I heard that there was an orgy at Deviate last night."

Speed nodded. "Shame you missed it, too. You could've had a whole room full of cocks, but no, you had to go out on a date with a woman."

Horatio made a face as he set the table. "Unlike you, I still have a reputation to maintain."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," Speed said casually as he brought the food over.

"I sleep just fine," Horatio countered, grabbing the carafe off the coffee maker and setting it on a hotplate on the table. "You're the one that came dragging in after midnight, screwed out of your mind."

"Hey, at least one of us got some last night," Speed countered. They sat, pouring their coffee and putting food on their plates. "So, by the way, how was Miss Rachel Turner?" Speed inquired innocently. Not 'how is,' but 'how _was_.'

Horatio gave him a Look over the rim of his coffee. "I don't sleep with them on the first date, Speed."

"But you got invited back." Speed pounced on that.

Horatio nodded. "She's a nice lady, and a good cook. Not as good as you, of course, but still." He took an innocent swig of his coffee. "And by the way… she _prefers_ other women, Speed."

"Just like you prefer other men."

"Exactly. That's why it's called a _cover date_."

Speed stood and went for the toast that had just popped up. "Of course," he muttered, "if you can get a little tail while you're at it, then so much the better." He hunched his shoulders as Horatio's balled-up napkin bounced off the back of his head.

The redhead had an even better comeback than that, though. "Oh, and by the way… a young lady stopped by the lab yesterday morning. She was looking for you." He watched Speed for a reaction. "She went by the name of Sarah Piper."

Tim mouthed the name, eyebrows furrowed, as he sat back down. "I know that name, she's…"

"An ex-adult film star who called herself Cookie Divine." Horatio's mouth twitched.

Speed noticed. "H…"

"I know, I know, she holds no interest for you. Wrong set of genitals, and all that." The redhead's mouth twitch became more distinct as a smile. "She quit the industry, dyed her hair, and found a boyfriend who had no idea who she was."

"Good for her." Tim blinked, shrugged, stabbed another piece of bacon. "Why was she looking for me?"

"Because after you solved her colleague's murder, you told her to come find you if she needed help." Horatio dabbed at his eggs with a piece of toast. "Her boyfriend had no idea who she was, as I said… but when they put new doors on their house, the contractor recognized her. And when her boyfriend unwittingly invited her to tape a session with him and she agreed…"

"And the contractor stole the tape."

Horatio nodded. "The contractor stole the tape."

"Well, how'd it work out?"

"We found the master and the copies, and just in time. Her former employer, who had been borderline stalking her ever since her retirement, had just started unloading boxes of DVDs labeled 'Cookie's Comeback' when we pulled up."

Tim broke into a grin. "What is it with you and the whole 'nick of time' thing?"

"It's a gift." Horatio smiled, toying with a piece of bacon. "She was genuinely shocked to hear that you were gone. I told her that you had been wounded in the line of duty, and been forced into early retirement."

If he had anything else to say, it was interrupted by a series of noises, loud but muffled, that carried to their ears. Horatio smiled, and Speed gave a good-natured sigh and rolled his eyes as the noises continued. Speed leaned back in his chair and shouted. "Hang on, Locard! I'll feed you as soon as breakfast is over!"

The barking continued, indignant. "Locard! Enough!" Speed hollered, and the dog ignored him. Speed grumbled and stood, taking a swig of coffee as he lumbered out of the kitchen and toward the laundry room. There was a pause, and a sudden "Shit! H, incoming!"

Horatio set his coffee quickly on the table as a black and white furry bullet raced into the kitchen. It skidded across the tile floor, dove under the table, and came up between Horatio's legs with its paws reaching for his chest. Horatio scooted back and grabbed the paws before the dog could rear his head back and upset Horatio's breakfast.

Speed ambled back into the kitchen, grumbling good-naturedly. "Dammit, dog, I know you're supposed to be a genius, but could you at least wait until you grow into your legs before you start getting smart?" Locard gave Horatio's face a quick tongue bath and went back to the floor, sniffing excitedly. Locard was a juvenile Border Collie mix, male, roughly nine months old and with the trademark fluffy fur and tall ears. Border Collies were the geniuses of the dog world, with some bloodlines boasting the intelligence of a five-year-old human child. Naturally, Speed's dog had been blessed with the name of the father of modern forensics, Edmund Locard.

The dog was also a real handful, and at the moment Locard was learning that if he put his paws on Speed's chair, he could reach the last of Speed's bacon. "Mine!" Speed snarled as he dove for his plate. Locard was faster, though, and snatched the greasy treasure. He changed directions under the table and made a break for his doggy bed in the laundry room, but his progress was hampered by lack of traction. As his dog skidded on the smooth flooring, Speed dropped to his knees and wrapped his arms around the furry midsection. "That's mine, dammit. Give it back!"

"You still want it?" Horatio asked with a raised eyebrow, taking another drink of his coffee.

Speed grumbled and struggled with his pet, vying for the juicy slice. "It's the principle, H. And you know that a dog's mouth is cleaner than a human's."

"Think of where that tongue has been," Horatio reasoned.

"Think of where _my_ tongue has been!" Speed shot back as he finally pried his dog's mouth open and snatched his prize. He popped it into his mouth before Locard could lunge for it. "See? Mine, dammit. No bacon for you."

Locard whined and licked Speed's face as the man chewed his rightful breakfast, and Horatio chuckled. "How can you be angry at a creature that idolizes you like that?"

Speed grudgingly agreed. "He's too damn smart for his own good, H." He encouraged the dog to sit and gave it a scratch behind the ears.

Horatio, feeling that Speed was getting cabin fever, had gotten the dog for Speed's birthday roughly a month ago. It had been rescued from a couple that was currently in jail for animal cruelty and neglect. Horatio had heard about the case, knew that Speed liked dogs, and made a phone call.

Despite its age, Locard's previous owners had done painfully little training with the animal. Locard was housebroken, and that was it. To Speed, it was like adopting a two-year-old from another country. He had become irrevocably attached to it, though, so Horatio considered the venture a tentative success. The 'lab' results were still pending.

"I'll bet he has to use the bathroom," Speed reasoned as he stood, giving the dog an idle scratch and pushing in his chair.

"Probably." Horatio checked his watch. "And I need to get going, Speed."

"All right, H. Lemme put Locard up real quick. I'll let him out after you leave." Speed tugged on the animal's collar, walking him back to the laundry room. When he emerged back into the kitchen, Horatio had already put on his jacket and was digging around in the gun safe. Wisely the younger man stood back and waited until the redhead holstered his weapon before wrapping his arms around the slim waist.

Horatio immediately reached a hand behind his head to run fingers through Speed's hair. "Love you, Speed," he murmured.

"Love ya back, H. Now scoot. You have a city to protect, and I have a dog to walk and a kitchen to clean."

Horatio thought for a long moment, wanting to give voice to something he'd been thinking about for a while. "Have you given any thought to coming back to the lab, Speed?" he asked quietly.

Speed shrugged. "Sure, I've thought about it. I don't think that a day goes by that I _don't_ think about it. I'm pretty sure that I'm not up to doing any really delicate work, though. And remember what Stetler said. Now, off with you."

Horatio made a wry face at that as he allowed himself to be shooed out of his house. More and more lately, Speed had dropped little comments about being bored, or about science. He knew Speed wanted to come back to work. _Needed_ to come back to work. But… could he do it?

And more importantly, could he and Horatio handle working together again chastely, after being so close every day for the past six months?

"Good morning, handsome," Calleigh said teasingly from the doorway to Horatio's office. Horatio's head popped up from his paperwork to see the blonde standing there with a coffee mug in her hands. He waved her in, and she took a seat in front of the desk.

He tried to go back to his paperwork, but it impossible to do with Calleigh's intense green eyes drilling holes into his forehead. He glanced up. "Is there something you need?"

She took an innocent sip of her coffee. "I heard you had a date last night."

The redhead blinked at her.

"With a woman," she added for clarification. She watched him over the rim of her mug.

Horatio started to say something, stopped himself, and sighed. "I'm not even going to ask how you knew that. And yes, I did."

She tilted her head at him. "But what about Tim?"

"Oh, he knows." He took a look at her disbelieving face. "Speed is my roommate, remember? He's gay, I'm straight, and I had a nice date with a female last night."

She stared at him. "And in reality, you and Tim are in love, the two of you are going at it like rabbits, and you're going on dates with women just to cover your reputation."

Horatio ducked his head, flushing. "As always, you see right to the heart of the matter."

"Speaking of 'seeing to the heart,' I'll explain it to Alexx so she doesn't come looking for yours," Calleigh said offhandedly. "With a scalpel."

Horatio tilted his head, swallowing suddenly. "She knows, too?"

"Horatio, this is Miami. Lots of faces, lots of ears, lots of voices. I've heard it mentioned more than once today that you were seen with a woman last night, so people still think you're straight. Although you may be too nice for your own good." She took another sip. "I'm amazed that there aren't more rumors about you and Tim."

Horatio muttered something under his breath and reached for his own coffee, finding it still pleasantly warm thanks to the miniature desktop coffee-warmer that Speed had gotten him as a 'just for the hell of it' gift.

Calleigh smiled at the little heated plate. "You know, I miss having him around," she said suddenly.

"Speed, in the lab?"

She nodded.

"Funny, I was discussing that with him this morning," Horatio mused. "It would be good to have him come back to the lab, at least to visit. Not to mention, finally review all those cases that he was so rudely interrupted from."

"And haze the new guy?" Calleigh couldn't stop the cheeky grin, and Horatio quirked an eyebrow at her.

"I believe Mr. Wolfe is doing quite well, to be honest. He's just…"

"Not Tim?"

Horatio sighed. "Exactly. Speed may not have been nearly as enthusiastic about his work as the rest of us, but he was still a CSI level 3." He gave a mirthless chuckle. "He's going stir-crazy just staying at the house, and it's driving _me_ crazy. You should see all the redecorating he's done."

"He's bored, Horatio. He misses the challenge, solving all those puzzles. It's one reason why we all enjoy our jobs as much as we do." Calleigh threaded her fingers around her coffee mug, taking a sip. "How's his efficiency with his left hand?"

"Almost as good as if he was born left-handed."

"And his right?"

"He's out of practice, but doing better. In fact, he cooked a good breakfast this morning."

"Oh? And how were your eggs?" Calleigh's green eyes smiled at him.

Horatio smiled back. "He didn't break any yolks, but it was a close call."

"I'd say that's pretty good. You think Stetler would let him reapply? Maybe not out in the field, but as a lab tech?"

"A one-armed evidence handler isn't going to look very good on Rick's record, especially one that he's already fired for poor gun maintenance. His arm _works_, but the muscles are extremely weak and sore." Horatio sighed again, idly nudging some papers on his desk without really seeing them. "Speed's got something in his favor, though, and that's that he was my top trace expert. Sorry, Calleigh," he smiled, noticing the flick of her eyebrows, "but there is only one Speed. You're my Bullet Girl, remember?"

She sniffed airily at the title, hiding her blush. "You know, why should you even care what Stetler says? It's your lab, and you have the right to hire and fire whomever you want."

"But remember the deal they made. Speed agreed to hand in his badge permanently, on the condition that Rick would leave your reputation untarnished."

She gave a modest smile. "I can stand a little tarnish. Speedle's brilliant, and he's just sitting at home watching TV and doing laundry."

"I still fold some of that, by the way," Horatio muttered casually around his coffee mug, and her smile grew. "Having only one good arm is extremely limiting, Calleigh, I can tell you that just by watching him. His strength is returning, but he's lost a lot of dexterity. He thinks there's a pinched nerve, but he hasn't bothered to get it looked at yet. And let's not forget that he is very, very out of practice with lab procedures." He tilted his head, giving a frustrated grunt. "I honestly don't know how he would be able to handle most of the evidence."

"Well, maybe he can just consult, then. All the things he knows off the top of his head would definitely speed up some of the cases we've had lately." She gave him another cheeky smile. "How many people do you know that have memorized as much about firearms as I have?"

He chuckled. "Point taken." He paused, hesitant.

Calleigh noticed, of course; her sharp green eyes missed nothing. "What is it?"

"You should know, he broke his right shoulder again, about two and a half months after the shooting." Horatio sighed, deliberately not looking at her and focusing on his coffee instead. "He tried to ride his motorcycle while I was at work one day, while still wearing his arm brace, and he crashed. Pulverized the joint completely."

Calleigh clicked her tongue. "And so what happened then?"

"I talked him into finally getting an artificial joint. The surgery was only a few days after the accident, and by now the bones and connective tissue have knitted well enough for him to be in physical therapy."

"Poor Speedle." She sighed, then looked up at him. "He's on pain medication, isn't he?"

Horatio nodded. "He only takes it when he can't stand the pain anymore, because of… his past. But," and he continued quickly, "it is something that would show up under the 'disapproval' list if he should be asked to take a urine test."

"Vicodin?"

"Oxycontin."

"I see." They took sips of their coffee, thinking. "You know," the blonde said suddenly, "Speedle could get around the urine test."

Horatio looked at her as if she was slightly mad, and she explained. "That remark Stetler made at the hospital, about 'calling Tim's boyfriend on him.' He didn't know that Tim actually has a boyfriend…"

"And I could nail him for sexual harassment," Horatio finished, a devious smile on his face.

"Or have him hauled off for sensitivity training, at the very least." She gave him a chipper grin. "You don't have to out yourself, but you could say that Tim confided in you about it."

Horatio nodded thoughtfully. "It could work." He turned and looked at her, giving an appreciative smile. "What would I do without you?"

She shrugged modestly, hiding her own smile in her coffee mug. "I'm sure you could figure something out," she drawled. And then she snickered. "By the way, Horatio?"

Horatio glanced over at her, eyebrow raised, and she grinned as she reached over and plucked at his sleeve, coming up with a few long white hairs between her fingers. "You need to be carrying a lint roller," she murmured, "before you start contaminating the evidence."

Horatio sighed and glanced down at his suit, noticing several stray hairs. "I think you're right," he admitted, brushing at his lapels.

She pulled a few more off his shoulder. "Well, at least we won't have to go looking for any more reference samples for canine hair," she remarked, and Horatio grunted. "A long-haired black and white dog in the Miami summertime. Come on, Horatio, I thought you'd be smarter than to wear a dark suit."

He batted her hand away casually. "He's shedding, and he jumped on me this morning. He almost got away with some of Speed's bacon in the process." She giggled as he relayed the brief tale.

"I still can't believe you named him Locard," she said with a shake of her head.

"Speed named him," Horatio bit back as he stood up, needing a refill. "And thanks for the suggestion, Calleigh. In fact, I think I'll go take care of that right now."

"Break a leg," she called as he disappeared around the corner.

"I want him back here, Rick. I want him in my lab." Horatio stood in Stetler's office, his hands on his hips.

"We made a deal," Stetler sneered from behind his desk.

"I don't care. I have a _bored_ level 3 CSI that's just sitting on his hands, doing nothing. We could use him back. _I_ want him back."

Stetler tilted his head. "I pulled his hospital records. Horatio, you really want me to put a doped-up guy with one good arm back in the field, handling all sorts of evidence? He never even cleaned his gun!"

"That will change," Horatio growled.

"And how do you plan to do that?"

"By making sure he cleans his gun on a regular basis, for starters. I've also gone to physical therapy with him a few times, and he's getting better." Inwardly, Horatio was surprised that Stetler hadn't remarked on the fact that Speed was still living with him. He decided that he wasn't going to remark on the subject unless Rick brought it up.

"And the drugs, Horatio? I'm going to need a urine sample from him."

Horatio gave the deadly sweet smile that he was so fond of, the one that told criminals Now You Are _Fucked_. "Rick, do you remember that day in the hospital, when Speedle was shot?"

"Of course."

"Do you remember that line you threw out, about 'calling Speedle's boyfriend'?" Horatio kept his face neutral, his voice calm.

Rick smelled a trap anyway. "Yeah?" He tensed in his chair almost defensively, also remembering Horatio's split-second reaction to that remark.

Horatio's eyes blazed as his face continued with that deceptively innocent smile, pinning Stetler to the chair. "Tim Speedle is gay."

Rick froze.

"Insensitivity won't look very good on your record, Rick. Especially if the Captain hears about it. I hear his youngest daughter is a lesbian." And she was; at Club Deviate, she went by 'Siren' and was usually seen hanging out with Tabitha.

Stetler fixed him with a desperate stare. "You wouldn't."

Horatio just kept smiling. "Yes, I would."

NEXT MORNING

Speed gave the redhead an odd look as he stuffed another bite of pancakes in his mouth. "What do you mean, eat faster? What's the rush?"

"I mean exactly what I said. Eat faster, and walk Locard as soon as you're done. And when that's over with, put on some decent clothes." Horatio gave his shirtless lover an innocent smile over the rim of his coffee mug.

Speed just stared at him.

Horatio gave in. "I got your job back, Speed. You're coming with me this morning."

Speed's jaw dropped. His brown eyes were almost comically huge as a look of genuine shock paraded over his face. "You… you did?"

"Mm-hmm. Now, are you going to come to work with me, or do you still need to clean the kitchen?"

Speed leapt from his chair and darted around the table to catch Horatio in a crushing bear hug, nearly causing the redhead to spill his coffee. Horatio set it down quickly as Speed grabbed his chin and planted a near-frenzied kiss on his lips, his tongue diving into the redhead's mouth. Horatio felt his cock stir as his lover plundered his mouth, Speed's hands ravishing the older man's slim body almost as passionately as the first time Horatio had told him he loved him.

"Easy, Speed," Horatio gasped as soon as the younger man let them breathe. "You keep that up and we're going to be late."

"I don't care," Speed gasped back, swinging one leg to sit on Horatio's lap, running fingers through the soft copper hair and claiming his lover's lips again. "God, H, thank you! Thank you so fucking much!"

"No worries," Horatio mumbled into Speed's mouth as the brunette made a determined effort to suck his tongue out of him. He was definitely getting hard now, and somehow he knew that Speed wasn't going to let up. "Speed…"

"Y-yeah, H?"

Horatio finally repossessed his own mouth, only to plant it firmly against Speed's jaw. The younger man made a subtle moaning noise and tilted his head up, begging for more even as his hands began to tease Horatio's nipples through the dress shirt. "Speed," Horatio murmured into the sandpaper neck, "I can't go to work like this." He rocked his hips suggestively, and Speed couldn't help another moan at the definite bulge that pressed into his ass.

"What do you plan to do about that, Speed?" Horatio rumbled throatily, pressing his lips to his lover's collarbone and sucking gently.

"I'm… I… oh fuck, H," Speed groaned, his train of thought slipping away from him upon the feeling of Horatio sliding his hands down Speed's back to cup two firm handfuls of his ass.

"What an interesting idea, Speed," Horatio murmured wryly. "Would you like me to fuck you?"

"Oh God, H, yes," Speed moaned. "Crawl inside me and fuck me stupid."

Horatio allowed a tiny smile to cross his lips. "I'd prefer for you to have your wits about you today, Speed," he rumbled as he fished inside the pocket of his jacket—which had been draped over the back of his chair—for the bottle of lube he kept in there for those just-in-case moments. "However, I think I can manage to make you forget your name for a little while." He began teasing a nearby nipple with his teeth while he uncapped the little bottle.

"H, please!" Speed groaned, his teeth chattering as Horatio exploited that little quirk of the younger man's nervous system.

Horatio chuckled. "Get those off," he ordered in a husky growl, tugging on the waistband of Speed's sweatpants with his free hand. Speed panted and rose awkwardly, all his weight on one foot and one hand grasping the back of Horatio's chair, trying to tug his pants off while still mostly straddling his lover. It wasn't going to work, and he muttered a frustrated curse as he hop-stepped to the side and back to standing on two feet, shucking off his pants and letting them fall to a puddle on the floor.

Speed instantly turned to the redhead and began fumbling for his belt and fly. Horatio hid his amusement at his lover's neediness and simply watched as the younger man pulled his cock free, stroking it firmly. "Speed," Horatio whispered in a certain tone, one that let Speed know that in no uncertain terms did he have the time or the patience for teasing this morning.

Speed's response was to straddle Horatio again, holding himself high enough that Horatio's lube-slick fingers could go to work on his ass, and the brunette clenched the back of Horatio's chair and gave an aroused sigh as one finger breached him, then almost instantly another one. Horatio was rushing this morning, but hopefully not so much that he'd need a condom. He didn't have any in his suit jacket, and if he wanted the one out of his wallet, Speed would have to stand up again and that just wasn't happening.

"H, get in me," Speed growled desperately, his legs starting to cramp from the awkward position. "Please, H?"

Horatio gave a dark chuckle and nipped at the younger man's nipple again as he slicked up his own cock. Finally he capped the lube and dropped it back in his pocket, holding his dick up with one hand and guiding Speed with the other as Speed lowered himself. Both men held their breaths with anticipation as Horatio pressed against Speed's hastily-stretched entrance, and both gave identical groans as Speed relaxed himself enough that the head slipped through, and Speed sank down onto Horatio's lap with a sigh of fulfillment.

"You're going to be wearing those zipper treads if you don't start moving," Horatio rumbled, grasping his lover's ass again and wincing as his hands brushed across the zipper of his open fly.

"Don't care," Speed growled back, lifting himself up until just the head of Horatio's cock remained in him, and then letting himself drop back down, the impact making both men gasp. "Fuck, H, you feel so damn good in me," Speed moaned, his lips finding Horatio's and kissing the breath out of him as he rose and fell again.

"You're not… so bad… yourself," Horatio grunted in a delayed rhythm to that of his lover, fighting for breath. Speed was all but knocking the wind out of him every time he dropped onto his lap, but Horatio wasn't complaining. "God, Speed, don't stop."

"Never," Speed agreed, increasing his pace, glorying in the velvet rod that impaled him with every stroke. Horatio leaned his head back and watched his lover's face as it twisted in that carnal ecstasy, his field of vision dominated by the hairy chest that rose and fell before him, inertia making the ring hanging around Speed's neck bounce and jerk and occasionally flick Horatio in the face. With precise timing, Horatio jerked his head forward and caught the ring in his lips. Speed's next rise nearly yanked it out of his mouth, but the younger man noticed the gesture and grabbed the ring, tugging it around so that it hung over his back. Rather than return to the back of the chair, Speed's hand began jerking himself, eager to come around his lover. Horatio began to get the feeling that the younger man's legs were probably getting fairly tired.

And so Horatio gripped the seat of the chair with both hands, aiding in the bucking of his hips into his half-standing lover as Speed raised and lowered himself onto the redhead's dick, one hand on the chair back and the other stroking his own length. Speed's face was to the ceiling as though communing with the gods of lust, and Horatio couldn't help latching onto one of the nipples that bobbed in front of his face, and Speed groaned again.

"God, H, I'm… I'm coming…"

"Not on my shirt, you're not," Horatio said quickly. He grasped his lover's ass firmly, tugging him to more of a standing position. Speed stood as well as he was able considering the chair and the man and the dick between his legs, sliding free of his lover, and Horatio scooted back a little and hunkered down to wrap his lips around Speed's throbbing member even as two fingers found that still-slick passage and dove inside, teasing Speed's prostate.

Speed threw his head back and moaned long and low, his hands on Horatio's shoulders as he came in his lover's mouth, Horatio milking him inside and out, swallowing every drop, devouring every scrap of the brunette's essence. The younger man's legs were shaking by the time his orgasm finally subsided, and Speed panted as he claimed the redhead's mouth again, tasting himself.

"Speed…" Horatio gasped when his lover came back for air.

Without a word, Speed dropped carefully to his knees on the tile floor, inhaling Horatio's cock. Horatio gave a low growl as his head lolled back, his hands finding Speed's shoulders as the naked man licked, sucked, and massaged his length. He'd already been close to coming when Speed had climaxed and it took little time for the brunette to finish him off, Speed bathing Horatio with his warm mouth as the older man sucked in a breath and arched his back, fighting not to drive himself into his lover's throat as he came, his come slapping against the back of Speed's throat like a shotgun blast.

Speed swallowed the load and licked his lover's cock clean as his legs finally gave out, and he sank down to a seated position with his body pressed against Horatio's leg, one elbow slung over a slim thigh. Tenderly Speed released the redhead and let his head sink onto the older man's leg with a sigh of exhaustion and satisfaction.

Horatio smiled down at him and stroked his hair. "That was wonderful, Speed."

Speed could only nod in agreement, giving Horatio's spent cock a last affectionate lick. He tried to stand, but his legs rebelled and he only got a few inches off the floor.

Horatio chuckled, stuffing himself back into his pants and checking for any visible signs of their tryst. "Need some help?"

Speed gave a tired sigh. "Only all I can get."

Horatio reached down and helped his spent lover climb to his feet. "Go get dressed, Speed. I'll walk Locard."

"Thanks, H," Speed nodded as he found his balance. He leaned down for a quick kiss before grabbing his sweatpants off the floor and staggering out of the kitchen. As Horatio stood and slipped his suit jacket over his shoulders, he could hear the younger man's feet plodding tiredly up the steps, and he smiled to himself.

Walking the dog was a quick affair, and Horatio found himself slightly embarrassed to be seen following behind the animal on his leash, a well-dressed man in an expensive suit waiting for his pet to hike its leg or hunch up in some tall grass. It was a privately owned backyard so they didn't have to pick up the droppings, but still. Horatio found himself glancing at the white slat-board gate at the end of the stone path through the yard, which lead out onto a very tiny stretch of white sand beach.

_This_ was why he liked his house so much. It was the view. And his own private bit of beach; how many people can say that they owned part of the beach? Well, plenty, he was sure, but this part was _his_. His and Speed's.

Finally Locard had performed all the proper functions, and Horatio clicked his tongue and trotted the dog back to the house. Speed was just coming down the stairs as Horatio put Locard back in the laundry room.

"Ready, Speed?" Horatio asked, giving his lover a careful look.

Speed nodded. "I've been ready, H."

Horatio accepted that, and they headed for the door. Speed had his hand on the doorknob when Horatio suddenly darted up behind him, wrapping one arm around the younger man's waist and tilting his head to press his teeth against the back of Speed's neck. Speed halted, a sudden groan rising from his throat as Horatio worked his jaw gently, marking him low enough that the collar of his shirt would _mostly_ cover the bite.

Finally Horatio reared his head back to admire his handiwork, gave a small smile, and pressed his lips to the saliva-slick flesh.

"What the hell was that for?" Speed wondered, his legs shaking.

Horatio chuckled as he nuzzled his target. "Just marking my territory," he explained casually.

Speed just shook his head once Horatio let him go, twisting around to catch one last kiss before they stepped out of the house and into the public eye.

As Horatio watched the younger man walking ahead of him, he gave a quiet sigh. That denim-covered ass, just within arm's reach and yet so far away… he grumbled morosely as he realized that it was going to be a _long_ day.

"Alexx?" Speed poked his head into Autopsy, looking for the lean coroner. She spotted him and laid her scalpel down, giving her current 'client' an almost apologetic pat on the arm as she peeled off her gloves and tossed them in the biohazard bin.

"Timmy!" Alexx came up to him, hugging him tight. "How have you been, baby? Oh, it's been too long!"

Speed grunted, giving her a pat on the back. "Alexx? I missed you, too, but… arm?"

"Oh, sorry." She backed off a half-step, still holding on to his good shoulder. "How are you feeling? It's been six months, Timmy. So why hasn't that shoulder healed up yet?" She leaned close, whispering sternly. "Is Horatio being too rough with you?"

"Alexx!" Speed yelped, his ears turning red. "No, it's nothing like that! I just… did something stupid."

"And what might that be?" She released his arm so she could cross her own, tapping her foot and giving him her piercing 'You Can't Hide From Mother' look.

"I…" he stared desperately at the floor. "I tried to ride my bike. _Tried_."

"Timmy," she growled at him, rearing back her hand as if to slap him on the back of the head, "if you were my boy, I would beat you senseless!"

"He's already senseless," Calleigh broke in, grinning as she entered the Autopsy Theatre, and Speed quickly moved toward her. She stopped, holding her hands up. "Oh, no you don't. You're a big boy; no hiding behind me."

Speed looked panicked as Alexx advanced on him, and he turned as if to dart out of the room when the doors opened again, and there stood Horatio and a younger man that he didn't recognize.

"H, help me!" Speed yelped, moving toward his lover.

Horatio chuckled as he stepped between the handicapped man and his would-be assailant. "You should've seen this coming, Speed. Just be glad I didn't tell her ahead of time." He paused, speaking over his shoulder. "She would've been waiting for you in the parking lot."

"And had a slab all prepped and ready for me, too." Speed gave a theatrical shudder. The strange man watched it all, wide-eyed. Cowering behind the tall redhead, Speed saw the man's name badge and proffered his left hand out of habit, fingers curled down to shake the stranger's right. "Tim Speedle, ex-CSI. You must be my replacement."

The stranger swallowed. "Ryan Wolfe." He shook Tim's hand carefully, slightly puzzled. "Has Alexx always been like this?"

Speed barely heard him; as they shook hands, his gaze was drawn to the younger man's eyes. Ryan's weren't brown, as he'd originally thought at the first glance. They were a deep hunter green, with flecks of an almost amber color.

Other than Horatio's, Tim thought that they were the most beautiful eyes he'd ever seen.

"Ryan, you should know by now," Calleigh chided, breaking into his thoughts, laughing silently as she stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Horatio as a part of Speed's 'wall.' "Alexx is sort of like our den mother on Day Shift, and Speedle here is one of her favorites."

Alexx stalked in front of Horatio and Calleigh and finally gave up. "Fine, I won't hurt him. But this is your warning, Timmy. You hear me?"

Speed peeked from around Horatio. "Loud and clear, Alexx."

"All right." Alexx crossed her arms. "Now, all of you get out of here before I have you arrested for disturbing the peace."

"Yes, ma'am," Horatio said calmly, and the little entourage left the room.

Ryan paused to look at Speed. "Uh, nice to meet you," he muttered before walking quickly away.

Horatio and Speed cocked their heads at each other. "The hell was that about?" Speed muttered. Horatio shrugged.

"You know, you've changed," Calleigh cut in quietly.

The lovers exchanged glances. "Who, me?" Speed asked finally. "Changed how?"

The blonde gave a soft smile. "You used to be all quiet and grumpy. Now you're almost… happy." She tilted her head and looked between the two of them. "I guess being in love will do that to you."

Both men ducked their heads, slightly embarrassed smiles on their faces.

"That's so cute," Calleigh murmured, smiling broadly.

"Shut it," Speed grumbled, scratching his neck and accidentally revealing the bite mark to Calleigh. Her eyes widened and she clapped a hand over her mouth, glancing at Horatio and then darting away from them before she couldn't contain herself any longer. She was _almost_ out of earshot before her peals of laughter bounced back toward them along the hallway. "Very funny," Speed growled after her, tossing a pointed look at Horatio.

The two made their way to the empty layout room, Speed glancing around and admiring the new lighting. Movement caught his eye, and he glanced over to see Ryan sitting next to Cooper in the AV Lab, working on something. Horatio followed his gaze and smiled.

"H?"

"Yeah, Speed?"

Speed swallowed. "His eyes are fucking gorgeous."

"I know." Horatio smiled.

Speed tapped his finger on the table. "You think he—"

"No idea." Horatio stared at Ryan's back, along with Speed. The chair that Wolfe was sitting in obscured their view of his lovely-looking rear, but Horatio had gotten many a quick glance at it. "I've heard of him going out with women a few times, but never anything definitive. One, whom I could only describe as a particularly vicious lamprey, keeps trying to latch onto him. He may have taken her to dinner once or twice, but I can say with certainty that nowadays he does not appreciate her company."

As they watched, Ryan clapped Cooper on the shoulder and stood, headed for the bullpen. He adjusted the fall of his sport coat as he did, giving Horatio and Speed a momentary shot of his denim-clad ass. Speed gave a low whistle.

"Wait until you see him in a T-shirt," Horatio rumbled, giving a knowing smile.

Speed's mouth was almost watering. "I'd like to see him in nothing at all, H," he whispered hoarsely.

Horatio merely chuckled. "He was something of a stringbean when he first started here, but I have noticed a change in him. He has a respectable physique now."

Speed gave him a sideways look. "That's your way of saying that he's well on his way to becoming a total hardbody, right?"

"Something like that."

The brunette put a hand to his stubbled chin, thinking. "You know, H, the way he's dressed looks kinda familiar."

"You noticed it, too? I believe it to be a form of hero worship, honestly. He all but saluted me when I first met him at a crime scene."

Speed snorted. "Why, H, you meet such lovely people in such interesting places."

Horatio snorted back. "I'm not going to dignify that with an answer. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to get to work. Roam around if you will, say your hellos. You may answer questions if anyone asks for your advice, but you will touch _nothing_ until I get your badge back. Understand?"

Speed nodded. "Go get 'em, H."

Horatio nodded and gave his lover a secret smile as he turned and walked out of the room.

Speed stood there a moment, peering around. He liked the lab's new look, with all the lights and the glassed-in rooms. He was busy staring across three different hallways at the DNA lab when he heard someone behind him and he turned to see Eric, who looked just as startled to see him.

Speed remembered his last conversation with the Cuban, and knew that this needed to be fixed. "Hey," he said cautiously.

"Hey," Delko replied, just as cautiously.

Pause. "Are you going to scream at me again?" Tim asked quietly.

Sigh. "No, I'm not going to scream."

"But you _are_ going to say something." Speed's voice pointed out the obvious.

"I can't _not_ say something. What you're doing is wrong, Tim."

Tim. Eric had always called him Speed, and that hurt. "Who died and made you God?" Speed snapped.

"Oh, so now you're making fun of my religion?" Delko glared at him, shoulders hunched.

Speed stood his ground. "I never did that until you started making fun of my preferences. Know why? Because I _respected_ what you believed in."

Delko had no answer for that.

"I'm not going to start hitting on you, if that's what you're afraid of. For one thing, I'm happily involved already. And for another thing…" Speed paused, thinking of a way to phrase it. The best he could come up with was "I wouldn't hit on you for the same reason you wouldn't hit on Calleigh. Sure she's good-looking, but you're friends and you work together, so it just wouldn't work. And besides, I know you wouldn't like me like that, anyway."

Delko blinked. "What's that supposed to mean, that she wouldn't like me like that?"

"Huh?"

"You're referring to Calleigh, right? What, have you talked to her? Is she like you, like…"

Speed's eyebrows shot through the roof, and Delko suddenly realized that he'd allowed the example to distract him. Eric's mouth worked but no sound came out, and Speed beat him to the punch. "You're in trouble," he said calmly, pointing a casual finger in the tall Cuban's direction.

"I, I…" Delko started, then stopped. Getting a shrug and a heavy sigh out of his system, he looked at Speed. "If you're coming back to work, we're going to have to get along. So," he stuck out his hand. "Truce?"

Speed shook it gladly, right-handed but a bit limply, his shoulder bugging him. "Truce," he responded, and started rubbing his shoulder as soon as Delko let go. "And if you give me any limp-wrist jokes, I'm gonna sic Alexx on you."

Eric threw up his hands. "Hey, that's what truce means." The two looked at each other a moment. "So, who's your boyfriend?" Delko asked casually.

Speed blinked at him. "Not telling."

"Oh, come on. I know you like guys, so what's the problem?"

"Because he's still in the closet, and if he comes out, it'll ruin him." Speed sighed sadly; how he wanted to be able to be affectionate with Horatio in public. Even holding hands was out of the question.

"Does H know him?"

Speed tilted his head. "Yeah, H knows him, and he isn't telling, either." An idea crept into his mind. "Matter of fact, that's why I'm still living with him; my boyfriend can't allow even the slightest hint of liking guys to go public. And besides, I still have problems with my arm." He headed Delko off at the pass, hoping that the Cuban bought it.

And once again, he did. "Nice of H to do that," he said softly, but Speed saw the twitch anyway.

_Does he suspect anything?_

Speed decided to play it cool. "So, did you need anything, or were you just dropping in to say hi?"

Delko cocked his head. "Funny, I was gonna ask you the same thing."

"Sorry, but you're gonna have to start dealing with me again." Speed gave him a sarcastic grin, and it worked; Delko gave him a familiar why-do-I-put-up-with-you? look and walked off, shaking his head.

Speed wandered the lab for a while longer, saying hello to old friends and making new ones, and one time he was even dragged into the trace lab and asked to bend over a microscope and identify what the hell a certain substance was. Speed grinned and complied, and the case progressed.

To Speed, it was like a second homecoming—the first, of course, being when he'd moved in with Horatio. He caught glimpses of his favorite redhead throughout the day, but for the most part he simply strolled around with his Visitor's badge hanging around his neck, letting the atmosphere come back to him. He remembered once remarking about how his job was 'just a paycheck,' but now he realized that this was really and truly where he belonged. Living with Horatio and working at the Crime Lab, Speed was _home_.

When the day finally wound to a close, Speed was more than ready to come back tomorrow. And so, right before Horatio and his lover bedded down for the night, Horatio handed Speed his badge back. It ignited the younger man's fires again and they made love once more. It was after both of them had come that Speed snuggled with the redhead. "Thanks, H," he murmured. "Love you."

Horatio smiled at the scruffy black hair lying on his chest. "Love you, too, Speed. Good night."

THE NEXT DAY

"White lab coats," Speed remarked as he pulled his on, his name embroidered over the lapel pocket: 'T. Speedle.' It fit just like his old one had.

Calleigh turned to him, one eyebrow lifted.

"When I worked here before, we had blue ones," he reminded her.

She thought a moment and realized that he was right. "Well, we had white ones, too. You were just one of the holdouts for the blue coats."

"It still looks good on him," Horatio stated. He, Calleigh, and Speed were the only ones in the layout room at that time.

Calleigh rolled her eyes at him. "You think he looks good in a HazMat suit."

"Guilty as charged," Horatio admitted and ducked his head, and Speed just snorted at him.

"And you call _me_ the horny one," the younger man growled good-naturedly. He turned to Calleigh and hooked a thumb over his shoulder at the redhead. "Don't let the nice-cop attitude fool you. Behind those shades is a hedonistic nymphomaniac just dying to get out."

Calleigh peered around Speed's shoulder at their boss, who stood there with a slightly embarrassed look on his face. "I… can't picture it," she said finally.

Speed blinked. "You can't? I mean, just look at him. He's a shark with legs!"

Calleigh couldn't hold back her smile. "I _can_ picture him taking you out on a date, but the though of Horatio getting frisky just…" and she broke out into the giggles.

Speed managed to keep a straight face as he turned to look at his lover. "She didn't just say 'getting frisky.'"

Horatio nodded, still slightly flushed. "Yes she did."

Anything Speed might have had to say was interrupted by Horatio and Calleigh's beepers. The two active CSIs checked them, glanced at each other, and sighed. "Duty calls," Horatio said with a shrug.

Speed made a shooing motion. "You guys get out of here. I gotta start going through all those damn cases that I left half-finished." Stetler, while giving Speed a pass on the urine test, had insisted that Speed review three months' worth of old cases.

Calleigh cocked her head. "Shall we?"

"After you," Horatio replied, making a grand sweeping gesture with one arm. She knew that something was up, though, and stood lookout for just long enough for Horatio to give Speed a quick peck on the lips. "Love you," Horatio murmured.

"Love ya back," Speed whispered. "Go get 'em."

A FEW HOURS LATER

"Speed?" Horatio's voice came from the doorway, and Speed's head popped up from the microscope.

"What's up, H?"

Horatio watched him for a moment, "How are you doing?"

Speed cocked his head. "I'm good, H. I'm back, and it's like I never left."

"That's good to hear, Speed." He paused. "Have you spoken with Eric yet?"

The younger man shrugged, glancing back down to his microscope. "If you're referring to our little fight at the hospital, we declared a truce. If you mean today, then I've seen him once or twice."

"Was he busy?"

Speed thought a moment. "Yeah, he was in the garage with Tripp. Why?"

Horatio tapped his beeper. "I just got a call, but I'm already up to my neck working that double homicide with Calleigh. Think you can find Wolfe?"

"Find me for what?" The voice came from behind him, and Horatio turned to see Ryan standing there.

"Excellent timing. A call just came in, 420 at the new Alejandro hotel. I need you, Mr. Wolfe, to take it." He turned to his lover, who was just putting away his evidence. "Speed, I know you're not cleared to go back out into the field yet, but would you mind helping him process the evidence when he gets back? From what the first responder implied, there's going to be a lot of it."

Speed shrugged one-shouldered, paused, and shrugged again with deliberate effort to include both joints. "I'm good, H."

Horatio nodded. "Mr. Wolfe?"

Ryan tried not to look as nervous as he suddenly felt. Horatio was putting him with Speedle? Despite the rumors about his sexual preferences, Tim Speedle was touted as a near-legendary trace expert and CSI… at least, according to Eric. "I'll be fine."

Calleigh strode into the lab, an amused smile dancing over her face. "Don't be scared, Ryan. He won't bite." Apparently she'd overheard the discussion.

Horatio's mouthed twitched but he carefully refrained from commenting. Speed noticed and sent a covert glare at his lover, pointedly rubbing the back of his neck, and Horatio's eyes went elsewhere. Speed was _still_ sporting the distinctive bruise from the redhead's love bite yesterday morning.

"Horatio, when you have a moment," Calleigh started, "There's something you should see in Firearms."

"I'll be right there," Horatio nodded as the blonde turned and left.

When she was gone, Ryan shuffled nervously on his feet and then leaned in close to the redhead. "H, I have a quick question…"

Horatio hid his amusement at both Ryan's sudden caginess, and the way Speed's head popped up to look closely at them. "What might that be, Mr. Wolfe?"

"I just wanna know… am I assisting him, or is he assisting me?"

Horatio eyed him steadily. "You assist each other, Mr. Wolfe. You know this. And if you're worried about me dropping you from the team…" he paused to watch Ryan swallow, "then you truly have nothing to worry about at all. I approve of the way you do things. Just work with Speed for a while, get used to each other. You might learn something."

Ryan's shoulders drooped a bit. "Sure thing, boss," he muttered, turning away. He didn't look at Speed as he exited the lab.

Speed cocked his head. "What the hell was that all about?"

Horatio sighed. "He's worried that I'm going to send him back to Patrol now that you're back. And by the way, you're still on probation until you pass the Firearms exam."

Speed's shoulders drooped as much as Ryan's had. "I hate guns," he mumbled.

Horatio chuckled. "I know you do, Speed, but hating your weapon is what got you into that mess," and he pointed to his lover's shoulder, "in the first place. Now, I will not argue that good things have come out of that situation, but I'm putting my foot down on this." He stepped forward, his voice softening. "I can't watch you go down again."

Speed favored the redhead with a soft smile. "I wish I could hug you right now."

Horatio gave a world-weary sigh. "I wish you could, too."

Speed glanced at the floor. "So, no gun?"

"Not until you pass Firearms. That means that you have to have a CSI or a uniform shadowing you at all times in case something comes up and you're out in the field." He put an edge into his voice. "And tonight, I _will_ teach you how to clean the thing. And you will clean it at least once a week."

"Great." Speed's voice said that such an activity was anything _but_ great, but they'd established boundaries at their place of business. They were here to _work_, not to love on each other, and Horatio was the boss.

Besides, it gave Speed so many reasons to plan devious S&M scenes for his pet redhead.

LATER

"That's the first batch," Ryan panted. "The rest of it is in the evidence locker."

Speed lifted an eyebrow. They were in the layout room, and a good half of the table was stacked with boxes, evidence bags, and larger items wrapped in garbage-bag-sized sheets of clear plastic. "First responder wasn't kidding," he muttered. He reached for a pile of bags, starting to sort them.

Ryan grabbed a few larger items, pulling them carefully out of the plastic. "I think I saw biologicals on a few of these."

"You think?" Speed gave him a neutral look. "Didn't you scope them at the crime scene?"

Ryan looked a bit guilty. "Most of them. If I had run the Crimelite over everything _there_, I would've been there all day."

Speed had to nod at that. "Well, grab a light and go for it. I'll sort these out."

Ryan turned and began looking for the necessary equipment, flicking out the overhead lights as he went. Speed didn't mind; the layout table was backlit. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Ryan testing the Crimelite as he slid his amber glasses on. The large circle of blue light roved around the room, and stopped.

Suddenly Tim noticed that the layout table in front of him had turned blue, with a Speedle-shaped shadow in the middle of it. He twisted around to see Ryan staring at him—or rather, at his ass—with the aid of the Crimelite and the amber eyeshield. It was then that Tim remembered just which pair of pants he was wearing.

"Wolfe?" He spoke more sharply than he'd intended, startling the younger man out of his daze.

"Y-yeah?"

"Can I help you with something?"

"Oh, no, it's just… I, you—"

"I have a semen stain on my ass. Yeah. I know all about it."

Wolfe swallowed. "And why do you…"

"Because I was taking a nap on the couch, and my boyfriend didn't wanna wait for me to wake up." Speed wore his usual calm, disinterested look, as though it was an everyday occurrence for him. He had yet to pay back Horatio for that little stunt since rarely did the redhead nap, and even more rarely in clothes that either one of them would like to ruin. Speed could be patient when he wanted to, though.

Ryan blinked. "I see."

Speed waited a moment. "You mind? We've got evidence to process."

Ryan's hand twitched the Crimelite in another direction, his eyes suddenly elsewhere. "Sorry. I'll, uh… I'll go grab the next box."

"Good idea. I'll pack this stuff up."

Ryan swallowed and said absolutely nothing as he headed for the evidence locker.

Speed sighed and glanced around at the table. Idly he noticed the handbag that Ryan had evidently been about to finish processing and had forgotten about it. He checked the evidence log to make sure, and noted the little tag Wolfe had clipped to one handle. The bag had been printed at the scene so it was now time for a look inside. Speed signed off on the processing log and grabbed the end of the bag with one hand and the zipper with his other.

Horatio jerked his head up from the papers he'd been working on in his office.

There was a loud _pop!_ and a sputtering, almost hissing sound, and a roar following close behind. From all the way down the hall, Horatio could hear a male voice swearing graphically at the top of his lungs. He knew that voice, and he leapt from his desk and darted toward the sound. Heads swiveled to see Speed staggering out of the layout room, his eyes tightly closed, his face and upper body dripping red. He had his hands in front of his face, gloves also red, and he was cursing fit to kill.

_"Speed!"_ Horatio shouted, breaking into a run.

Tim's head turned toward the sound. "H? Where are you?"

Other techs and CSIs were also moving toward him, and Horatio thought he heard somebody call for Alexx. Speed had his lips curled inward and his eyes clamped closed like a man who'd just been doused with a bucket of water and was still dripping.

Something was off about Speed's body posture; he wasn't holding his hands protectively in front of himself, he was holding them like he was about to shake something all over the floor. The red wasn't red _enough_, either. And there were no visible wounds.

Horatio reached his lover. "Speed, what the hell happened?" he demanded, the adrenaline overriding his 'no swearing' rule as he gripped the younger man's good bicep, letting him know where he was.

"You got a towel or something?" Speed asked instead. Horatio dug inside his suit jacket for his handkerchief.

"Hold still, Speed," Horatio said calmly as he gently wiped as much of the stuff out of his lover's eye sockets and around his mouth as he could.

"Thanks," Speed muttered, his brown eyes popping open. "And it was a dye pack, by the way. I _think_. I didn't have much time to look at it before it _exploded in my face_."

Horatio raised his voice. "False alarm, people."

Relieved sighs and sympathetic groans emanated from the surrounding crowd as they dispersed. Horatio took another look at Speed, who was scrubbing at his face with the now-red cloth and growling. "Speed? You need to get a picture of yourself, for evidence," the older man said, managing to keep a straight face.

Speed gave him a suspicious look but complied, standing still and looking pissed as Horatio grabbed a camera and snapped a few photos.

"Now go take a shower before that stuff sets in," the redhead said calmly, making a little shooing motion.

Speed waved a hand at the layout room. "I still have evidence in there."

"I'll stay with it. You go." Horatio allowed the nervous relief to make him smile. "Get cleaned up, so you don't drip all over the house."

Speed made a face. "Very funny." He stomped off toward the locker room and the showers, cursing all the while. The redhead waited until he was out of earshot before he began chuckling quietly to himself.

Horatio stepped into the layout room to survey the damage. Luckily—except for Speed—most of the spray had been concentrated on the younger man's face. He stood where Tim had been and took a slow look around the room. There was a bit more of the stuff on the ceiling. Thankfully no other evidence had been compromised, but they'd have to replace a few of the surface panels on the big, backlit table.

Ryan came bounding into the room, a box of evidence under one arm. "H, what happened? Is that blood?"

Horatio shook his head. "Dye pack." He snapped on a glove and reached into the bag, pulling out the device. "Normally, dye packs are programmed to explode after they get a certain distance from their bank of origin. _This_ particular one looks as though it's been jury-rigged with a photocell. It triggers the explosion when you bring it out of the dark."

"So, no matter how far away you get from wherever it was built, the minute light hits it…" Ryan was pensive, staring at the bag.

"The minute the light hits it, you look like Speed." Horatio held up a Polaroid, and Ryan made a choking noise. "Go check on him, will you?"

Ryan swallowed. "Sure, let me just put this evidence up."

"Speedle?" Ryan entered the men's shower stalls, searching for his fellow CSI.

"Fourth one down," Speed's voice replied over the hissing sprayer. "And can you find me a towel?"

"No problem," Ryan called back, finding two and heading for the appropriate stall. He waited a bit awkwardly until Speed shut the water off, poking his top half out from around the shower curtain.

Ryan desperately hoped that his own expression was calmer than he felt; Speed's entire face was spattered with tomato red, as was much of his neck. His gloves, shirt, and lab coat had saved his torso from the spray, but… Ryan felt the sudden, desperate urge to run away before his lungs imploded from holding in the laughter.

Speed just looked at him and grabbed a towel. "Go ahead, Chuckles. Laugh it up. I'm sure I look like a jackass anyway."

Ryan's mouth twitched furiously. "You're not gonna be mad at me?"

"Nope." Speed shrugged and ducked back behind the curtain, emerging a few seconds later with the towel around his waist. He swiped the remaining cloth from Ryan's trembling hand as the younger man staggered backward until his back was against the wall, howling with laughter. "All right, that's enough. I get the picture."

Ryan gave an embarrassing snort, trying to contain himself. His laughter subsided somewhat as Speed tried to dry his left shoulder, grunting at the strain on his right arm. "Need a hand?" Ryan asked with a final chuckle.

Speed growled at nothing. "Sure, why the hell not? Six months, and my shoulder is still fucked up. I think there's a pinched nerve or something." He turned his back and allowed the younger man to scrub the towel along his shoulders.

Ryan stopped rubbing for a moment, something catching his eye.

Speed twisted his head around to frown at him. "Wolfe?"

"There's a, uh… a bite mark on the back of your neck."

_Dammit, Horatio…_ "I know," Speed said with a long-suffering sigh. "My boyfriend thought it would be funny to 'mark his territory' before I went back to work. That's a laugh, coming from him."

Ryan swallowed and resumed drying the pale flesh before him. "How's that?"

Speed turned his head enough for the younger man to see him quirk a smile. "We're a semi-open couple."

Ryan's hands faltered for a second. "I think you're dry now," he said quietly.

Speed started to say something, but stopped when Horatio poked his head into the showers. There was only the slightest flush on the redhead's face at the sight of Speed in nothing but a towel, a brief swallow and a fluttering of the blue eyes, and then Horatio was back in 'business mode.' "As soon as you get dressed, Speed, I'd like to see both of you in my office."

Then he was gone, and Speed stepped away from Ryan. "That doesn't sound good," the unshaven man muttered.

Ryan was looking at Speed with something closer to interest. "Where's your locker? I'll grab your clothes for you."

Speed blinked at him. "Thanks, but don't bother. They cleaned out my locker after I got shot."

Ryan clicked his tongue. "Well, I'll get a head start on the ass-chewing we're probably both about to get, then," he sighed and ran a nervous hand through his hair.

Speed nodded. "Be there in a minute," he told the younger man as he reached for the shirt that he'd thrown in a pile of clothing. He held the t-shirt out by the sleeves, sighing morosely. In addition to a pale wine stain on the stomach, the entire upper half of the shirt was dotted with the same red as his face. "Guess that's it for my Skynard shirt," he muttered, sliding it back over his head. He'd dispose of it respectfully—burn it—when he got home. One did not simply throw away a vintage Lynard Skynard shirt, no matter what had been done to it.

Speed pointedly ignored the looks he was getting as he walked the hall toward Horatio's office. People he hadn't seen in half a year were suddenly laughing like maniacs at him, and he did his best to hold onto his dignity as he strode past them. He was deeply, deeply insulted, and angry at _himself_, that something so fucking _stupid_ had happened to him on his first real day back to work!

He emerged into Horatio's office, where the redhead sat across from an already squirming Ryan. "Mr. Wolfe," Horatio began in a cautious tone, doing his best not to look at Speed as his lover sat. "Did you forget to have the bag X-rayed before you brought it into the lab?"

Ryan ducked his head. "Yes, sir."

Horatio finally turned to his lover, fighting back a smile at the red-splattered face. "And Speed, did you forget to ask Mr. Wolfe to be there while you opened a bag with unknown contents, especially since it was his evidence?"

Speed glanced at the floor. "Yes, I did."

Horatio sighed. "Speed, I can't expect you to remember everything after being gone for six months. And besides, I think you've learned your lesson."

Speed flicked a glare at him, but Horatio put on his 'I'm the boss' face, and his lover subsided.

"And Mr. Wolfe?"

Ryan swallowed. "Yes?"

Horatio favored his lover with a tolerant smile. "Drive Speed home, will you? He needs a fresh change of clothing, and I drove him this morning."

Ryan blinked. "What about my case?"

Horatio pinned him to the chair with a glare. "I'm taking over your case personally, Mr. Wolfe. We were lucky that that was a dye pack and not _explosives_. Think about that. Now, both of you have the rest of the afternoon off."

Speed groaned despite Horatio's warning glare. Finally the younger man sighed. "Fine, H. You're right, I learned my lesson. I'll go home and try to scrub some more of this shit off my face."

Ryan looked glum. "Let me get some things out of my locker, and I'll meet you in the parking lot."

Speed nodded and Ryan stood, and then Horatio was alone with his lover for the first time in hours. The redhead fought to keep his mouth from twitching. "Speed, you look ridiculous."

"Thanks," Speed growled. "And I'm going to have to finally get rid of this shirt. You lied to me, by the way. The wine stain never came out."

Horatio clicked his tongue. "Sorry about that. And I'm sorry this had to happen to you on your first day back."

"Me, too. But there is one upside, though."

Horatio cocked his head. "And what's that?"

Speed gave a truly evil grin. "Consider the new guy hazed."

"Well, since we're both free for the afternoon," Speed began as they arrived at Horatio's house, "Wanna come in? Might as well get to know each other, since we're gonna be working together."

"Sure," Ryan agreed cautiously as he followed the slightly older man inside.

Once in, Speed locked up Ryan's gun and invited his guest to leave his badge and ID on the entrance table. Following Speed's lead, Ryan headed into the living room while Speed went into the kitchen for something to drink.

Speed emerged a few minutes later, looking pissed.

"What's up?" Ryan asked.

Speed frowned. "The dog got loose again." As if on cue, a familiar canine voice began barking from upstairs. "Dammit," Speed growled.

"You have a dog?" Ryan asked, bewildered, as they followed the sounds.

"Yeah, and it's one damn smart puppy. Locard, where are you?" He cupped his hands around his mouth, shouting up the stairwell.

Ryan was still staring at him. "Locard?"

"Locard," Speed said firmly. The barking drew closer, and the furry menace appeared at the top of the stairwell, feet pattering down the steps as he shot past Speed and made a break for the kitchen. "Locard, get back here!" Speed growled.

He began walking in that direction when Locard reappeared, barking wildly. Speed dropped to his knees and managed to get his right arm across the furry chest but then the dog squirmed out of his grasp, and the sudden strain made Speed's face go tight and pale. As Locard bounded back up the steps, Speed clutched his shoulder and made a long snarling noise at the floor.

"You okay?" Ryan asked, concerned.

Speed didn't look at him. "Just. Catch. The dog."

Ryan didn't need to be told twice as he climbed the stairs. His quarry was padding out of the guest bathroom, but upon spying Wolfe, he whirled and darted for the cracked doorway at the end of the hall. "Locard, here boy!" Wolfe called desperately, charging after the animal.

Pushing the door all the way open, he spied the dog rolling and flopping on the bed like a pig in a mud bath, white hairs flying everywhere. Ryan hopped nimbly to the bed and wrapped his hand around Locard's collar. "Gotcha!" Locard lay on his back and splayed his paws, panting at him with that ecstatic doggie grin, and Ryan couldn't help grinning back and giving the soft stomach a rub. "Tim, I got him!" Ryan shouted, and he could hear Speed give an answering grunt from the top of the stairs.

Scratching the dog's ears, Ryan's eyes were drawn to the head of the bed and abruptly he realized that this was Horatio's bedroom, judging by the red hairs on the pillow closest to him. Out of habit borne from processing bedroom crime scenes, Ryan's eyes traveled to the other side of the bed.

He stopped scratching. Holding Locard's collar absently with one hand, Ryan reached for one of the hairs on the other pillow, bringing it close to his face for better study. Short, black, and a little curly.

Speedle's hair.

Horatio's hair on one side, and Speedle's on the other. In the same bed.

He couldn't help what he did next; he was a CSI, after all. His eyes roved around the room, noting a bottle of water-based lubricant on the red-haired side of the bed. A small wastebasket sat underneath the nightstand, and Ryan spied a used condom. His mind spun in a million different directions as he came to the only possible conclusion.

Horatio and Speedle were—

"Wolfe?" Ryan whirled to see Speed in the doorway, still rubbing his shoulder. He started to say something smart when he noticed that Ryan was holding Unidentified Tiny Objects. Stepping forward, his sharp eyes made out the hairs. He locked gazes with his fellow CSI.

_He knows._

Speed waited, and eventually Ryan swallowed and spoke up. "Aren't you going to tell me that this isn't what it looks like?"

Speed sighed and sat down on the bed, and Locard wormed in Ryan's grasp and beat against Speed's leg with his feather-furred tail. "No, I'm not. That would be lying, and you already have the evidence."

Ryan stared at him. "There is no 'mystery boyfriend,' is there? It's Horatio."

The accused gave a grudging nod. "It's Horatio. And you're only the third person at work that knows."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Alexx and Calleigh know. They don't mind, and they swore they wouldn't tell anybody." In short sentences, he recapped the conversation from the hospital.

Ryan nodded. "Well, I could see why you'd want to keep it a secret. I mean, there's his reputation, and the lab's reputation, and God knows how many cases could be called into question because you and him were—"

"Wolfe, believe me, we _know_."

Ryan dropped the hairs back onto the bed. "So why?"

The question actually seemed to surprise Tim. "Why what? Why do I like guys? Or why H?"

"Both."

Speed couldn't stop himself. "Honestly, I think the idea of fucking women is disgusting. And as for H…" he trailed off, and Ryan was dumbfounded to see a little smile cross Speed's face. "He's smart, and he's funny, and strong, and he takes care of me, and he just makes me feel safe. I've never loved anybody like I love him."

Ryan had gone completely, deathly silent next to him, and Speed shot him a look.

"Sorry, it's just… let me get this straight. You love Horatio?"

"Like nothing else," Speed said firmly, his jaw set. "And he loves me."

Ryan blinked furiously. "Isn't he a little old for you?"

Speed actually snorted. "He's not old, he's experienced. And he's damn good, too. Got a mouth like—"

"Oh, Jesus Christ!" Ryan's face had gone redder than Horatio's hairs.

Speed ducked his head. "Sorry." Now that Ryan _knew_, Speed couldn't help bragging about his lover. Blame the fact that he had an exhibitionism streak a mile wide.

Staring at the floor, Speed's eyes were drawn to something in Ryan's lap. A shadow, formed by what could only be a hard-on. He looked back at the floor, staring hard with his peripheral vision. _He's getting hard… but from what? Me fucking guys? H fucking guys? H fucking me?_

Or maybe… 

Speed considered his own 'evidence,' that of Ryan staring at his ass with the Crimelite, and the way he'd acted upon seeing Speed's bite mark and hearing that Speed and Horatio were an open couple. And then there was the way the man had started to flush upon seeing Speed step out of the shower. Speed had indeed noticed that when he'd peeked around the curtain, Ryan's eyes had gone south of the border before flicking up to see his face, and then all hell had broken loose when he'd started laughing.

"So how long have you known?" Speed asked suddenly.

"Known what?"

Speed took a breath, and a gigantic leap of a hunch. "That you liked guys?"

Ryan stopped breathing. He started to ask how Speed had known, but the older man simply turned to look at him and pointed a casual finger at Ryan's crotch. Ryan glanced down, saw the bulge, and his face flushed pure scarlet.

Speed waited. "You've got a thing for Horatio, don't you?"

If Ryan turned any redder, he would catch on fire. "Yes," he finally whispered, barely loud enough for Speed to hear.

Speed mustered every bit of seemingly casual control over his libido as he possibly could—and fortunately, thanks to his experience as a Dom he had plenty of that—and spoke again. "What about me?"

Confusion flashed across the crimson face. "What about you, what?"

Patiently, Speed clarified. "You have a thing for me, too?"

Again, Ryan stopped breathing.

"I take that as a yes." Speed took a breath; he knew he was on shaky ground, here, but he had to continue. He could _not_, under any circumstances, leave this conversation unfinished. "You think you'd want to fool around with me?"

Ryan started wheezing faintly, and Speed briefly entertained the notion of delivering CPR. Finally Ryan found his voice. "Is that an offer?"

Speed tilted his head. "It might be, if you wanted it." He let his gaze wander over the younger man, allowing himself to take in the sight of the flushed, slim man with the intense green-brown eyes. "I could see myself doing you," he said off-handedly, and Ryan's hand twitched.

"What about work?" The younger man asked, desperate to turn this conversation around. His dick was getting painfully hard, and all he wanted to do was go home and beat off like there was no tomorrow.

Speed shrugged again, his eyes burning their calm, composed stare into Ryan's brain. "We're two consenting adults. We can keep work and home separate."

And finally, the million-dollar question: "What about Horatio?"

Speed actually snickered. "H wouldn't care. In fact, he'd probably be jealous."

Ryan couldn't process that one. "So you're in love with him, and you say he loves you back, but he doesn't mind you fucking other guys?"

Speed gave a little smile. "After being shot at twice, and almost dying the second time, H and I have come to the conclusion that life's too short to just sit at home and jerk off to some little fantasy. You should never deny a chance to try something that might turn out to be really, really good."

"Like my ass?"

Speed's previously-unnoticed erection gave a definite twitch. "Fuck yeah," he said softly.

Impulsively Ryan leaned a little closer, nervous eyes flying all over Speed's face. "You sure?" he asked softly.

Speed gave him a disarming grin. "We're both hard, Ryan. The hell do you think?"

That was all the confirmation Ryan needed, and he ran a cautious hand up Speed's arm as they closed the distance until their lips brushed. Ryan moaned as Speed's tongue almost instantly slipped into his mouth, the older man's hands gripping his biceps gently and urging him to fall to his side onto the bed.

_"BRAAAAAK!?"_

The sudden, earsplitting noise defied description, an inhuman screech-howl-yelp-bark. Ryan and Speed nearly jumped out of their skins until Speed realized that they had been about to start making out right on top of Locard. The dog had been astoundingly quiet and still while the two men talked, as though he knew that they'd needed to have that conversation, but he definitely wasn't going to tolerate two grown men laying on him with their elbows in his ribs and kidneys.

The CSIs exploded into laughter as they ran apologizing hands over the furry little body, calming him. "Sorry, buddy," Speed managed to gasp. "Let's get you walked and put you back in the laundry room, okay?"

Ryan tilted his head, still cackling like a maniac. "Don't you let him run around the house?"

"Usually, but not if we're gonna be asleep or out of the house or… occupied. We haven't trained him to stay away from certain places yet."

Ryan nodded as they stood, and he offered to carry Locard since Speed's shoulder was still a little painful. "I'm gonna have to get that looked at soon," Speed growled. "I can't keep going on like this, letting people pick up my slack because my arm hurts."

"Well, there's not much that you _can_ do about it until you can get it looked at," Ryan pointed out, his arms full of squirming canine. Locard really didn't like to be carried, though, and especially not down staircases. Upon Ryan's arrival at the top of the steps, Locard slipped out of his arms and made a mad dash back to the bedroom.

Speed grumbled and followed him. Ryan started to join him, but Speed just twisted to face him and growled, "Stay." Ryan did, eyes wide, as Speed followed his dog into the bedroom.

He emerged a few minutes later, Locard clipped to one end of a four-foot leather leash.

Ryan cocked his head. "Why do you have a dog leash—"

"None of your business," Speed interrupted with a growl.

Ryan blinked and decided to keep his mouth shut as he, Tim, and Locard paraded down the stairs. Ryan followed Speed as the older man led his dog back to the laundry room, dragged him through the door despite 'all brakes on,' and began walking the leash back upstairs. "Hey," Ryan said, "I'll take that back up."

Speed looked at him levelly. "You don't know where to put it, and I'm not telling you."

Ryan flushed again. "I'll just hang it on the doorknob," he insisted. Speed gave a grudging nod and handed it over, and Ryan jogged back up the stairs. His suspicions about the leash were confirmed when he noticed several human bite marks in the leather. "Well, well," he murmured to himself. "What are the odds?"

When he came back downstairs, Speed was waiting for him on the couch. The older man simply patted the fabric next to him, and Ryan swallowed and sat. They spent the next few minutes in awkward silence, running eyes over each other and trying to think of an icebreaker.

"Did I tell you that I think your eyes are fuckin' gorgeous?" Speed remarked suddenly, and Ryan blinked.

"No, I don't think I caught that one."

"Well, they are," Speed said with a firm nod. "Can I have a closer look at 'em?"

Just like that, the ice was broken and Speed found himself flat on his back with Ryan on top of him, trying to swallow Speed's tongue. "You have any idea?" Ryan breathed as he rained sloppy kisses over Speed's face, "How long it's been since I've been laid?"

Speed arched his back as Ryan's lips traveled down to the collar of his shirt. "Too long?"

Ryan's hands yanked Speed's shirt up. "Months."

Speed ran his fingers through Ryan's short brown hair as that desperate mouth blazed a wet trail through his chest hair. "Well, we've got all afternoon…" he trailed off as the tongue tried to slip underneath his jeans. "Jesus, you _are_ blue, aren't you?"

"You have no idea," Ryan grunted as he sat up to undo Speed's jeans and slide them down his legs, with Speed assisting. The moment the jeans and shorts were off, Ryan's face was suddenly tickling Speed's pubic hair while Speed could feel his cock pressing against the back of Ryan's throat, and the older man groaned and pulled his own shirt all the way off. Ryan held Speed's dick in his hand and gave it hard, firm strokes as he hovered low against the couch, licking at the older man's scrotum. "It has been _way_ too fucking long since I had a dick in my mouth," he hissed in something almost like a whine, rising to swallow Speed again.

Speed arched off the couch. "You keep that up, and you won't have it in there for much longer!"

Ryan got the hint and gave a disappointed groan as he released Speed, the older man's cock slapping his stomach in its eagerness. While Ryan might have been just a tad rusty, he more than made up for it in sheer eagerness. There was also something about his behavior that made the Dom in Speed think hard.

As Ryan began yanking his own clothes off, Speed decided that Ryan was a sub… for now. Something in his eyes told the older man that Wolfe had the capability to be a Dom somewhere down the road, but for now he was just looking for someone to pin him down and take him—if only for one afternoon.

"Well, you've come to the right place," Speed told him with a leer.

Ryan furrowed his brow as he started to slide off his jeans. "What do you mean?"

Speed sat up. "Hold off on getting out of those."

Ryan's hands slowed even as he asked, "Why?"

Speed leaned over closer to him. "Because I said so, that's why." He let his voice drop a few notches, becoming heavy with arousal and with command. "Because I want to feel you up first."

Ryan's jaw slackened as Speed lunged at him, pinning him down and pressing his lips just under the younger man's collarbone, marking him just for the pure hell of it. The volume of Ryan's moan shouldn't have surprised him, but it did, and Speed drew back. There was a definite bruise under the right clavicle, hovering above the thin patch of chest hair that condensed into a solid, dark line that ran from under his pectorals all the way down to his belt. Speed found the line fascinating, and he made a mental note to tell Ryan about it later as he latched onto one of the younger man's nipples to lick and suck it, and Ryan jerked and shuddered and gasped.

"You've got a great body, Ryan," Speed murmured while he slid down said body to tongue Ryan's navel. Ryan could only respond with a high-pitched warbling noise, clutching at Speed's shoulders carelessly, desperately. "Ow."

Ryan realized what he was doing and let go. "Sorry."

Speed sat up and rubbed his shoulder. "Oh, it's okay. You're going to make it up to me."

"How?" Ryan asked cautiously.

For his answer, Speed stood completely, towering over the younger man. "You're going to get those jeans off, and you're going to put your face in the couch and get your ass in the air."

Ryan's incredible eyes darkened as he sat up again to fumble with his pants. While he did so, Speed dug around in the end table for lube and a condom. He gave an almost devious smile as he sheathed himself and slicked up, because now Ryan's very attractive ass had become an inviting bulls-eye as the younger man knelt on the couch.

"Face down," Speed reminded him, and Ryan promptly rested his cheek on the seat of the couch. "Oh yeah, just like that," Speed murmured, coating one finger in the lube and teasing Ryan's entrance. "You want it, don't you?"

"Oh, fuck yes," Ryan groaned.

"Say it." Speed teased the tight pucker, his fingertip ghosting around it in slow circles.

"Please fuck me, Tim!"

Speed grinned as he slowly breached the tight ring of muscle. Ryan gave a watery groan as the finger slid in, but the groan disappeared when Speed curled his finger to stroke Ryan's prostate.

Instead, Ryan gasped with discomfort.

Speed cocked his head. "That hurt?"

Ryan nodded. "Yeah, I… I don't mess with my prostate."

"Sorry." Speed avoided that area and instead concentrated on stretching the sphincter to a manageable size. Unlike the vast majority of the male population that participated in bottoming during anal sex, Ryan was one of the few that experienced extreme discomfort (and sometimes even pain) when his prostate was manipulated. It was just the way he was. _Sucks to be him_, Speed thought with a mental shrug.

Speed finally pronounced Ryan stretched and knelt behind him, aiming. "You want me?"

"Oh, God…" Ryan was trembling with anticipation.

"Well, not quite," Speed said with a dirty grin. He pressed against Ryan's entrance. "Most people call me Speed."

Ryan gave a long, low groan as Speed slid slowly in. "It has been too fucking long," the younger man panted, grabbing fistfuls of couch as Speed began to rock his hips. "Oh, God, that feels good."

"Yeah, that's it," Speed crooned as he pumped in and out of that tight heat. "Tell me how good it is, Cub." He had no idea where the nickname came from, other than a play on Ryan's last name, but it seemed to do the trick. Ryan moaned and trembled. "You like that, don't you? You like being fucked? Huh?"

"Oh yeah," Ryan hissed as Speed increased his pace.

Speed began to fuck him in earnest, slapping against that tight ass. Ryan was moaning and trembling beneath him, and Speed almost didn't hear the sound of keys sliding into the front door lock, or the sound of the gun safe being opened or closed. He did hear something else, though.

"Speed, I'm home!" came a sudden, familiar voice. A voice belonging to a certain redhead.

Ryan bucked and tried to get away, but Speed grasped his hips with surprising strength—in his left hand anyway—holding him down. Hearing footsteps on the floor, Ryan realized that there was no way in hell he was going to get away in time to hide, and did the only thing he could think of: he buried his face in the couch cushions.

Footsteps went from hardwood floor to carpet. "Hey, Speed," Horatio's voice said smoothly, apparently not the least bit bothered by what he saw. The footsteps stopped a few feet from the couch. "Who's this?"

Speed shrugged, unbelievably casual despite his dick being buried in Ryan's ass as he spoke to his lover. "A guy I know. He's had a little experience, but he's been in the closet for a long time. I convinced him to step outside it for a little while." He paused. "Please tell him that you don't mind. He doesn't believe me."

Horatio's voice chuckled, sounding amused. "You know I don't mind, Speed. We both know who we belong to." The footsteps shuffled closer.

"Yeah, we do, don't we?" Speed's voice dropped a few notches, and then to Ryan's ears came the sounds of what could only be kissing. A big, sloppy, aroused kiss with lots of tongue.

Horatio's voice had also dropped, becoming more of a growl. "You know what seeing you fuck someone else does to me, Speed."

"I know," Speed replied in a breathy tone. Ryan heard the sounds of a belt being unbuckled and a zipper sliding down. Speed shifted, leaning toward the sound of Horatio's voice, and then he heard the older man hiss.

Nothing else was spoken for a few minutes, beyond Horatio's quiet whispers of encouragement and soft sucking noises coming from Speed, and for a while Ryan thought that they'd actually managed to forget about him. His leg was cramping and he shifted, unintentionally pressing his ass against Tim, and the man groaned.

He heard Speed release Horatio's dick with a loud popping noise. Something tickled Ryan's back—Speed's stomach hair as the dark-headed man leaned over him, pushing farther into him, and a little moan escaped Ryan's lips.

"Speed?" Horatio's somewhat strained voice came, and he heard the sound of cloth, probably his boss's suit jacket, hit a nearby chair. "Would your friend mind if you suck me off while you fuck him?"

Speed shrugged, his hands running along Ryan's back as he pumped his dick slowly in and out of that exquisite warmth. "Ask him."

There was a soft snort. "Is that all right with you, Mr. Wolfe?" Horatio asked in a voice heavy with amusement, and Ryan jerked at being recognized, at which Tim gave a sudden strangled groan.

"Jesus, H, don't scare him! He's got a fuckin' deathgrip on me already!"

"Sorry."

Ryan managed to peel one palm off the couch and twist it ceiling-ward, as if in a shrug. He wouldn't, _couldn't_ look at Horatio. No fucking way.

That's when he felt the hand on his cock, and he knew instantly that it wasn't Speedle's. No, Speedle had both hands on Ryan's hips, so the person handling him had to be Horatio. Besides, these weren't Speedle's somewhat large mitts; the fingers were slim, delicate. _This isn't happening. There's no way in hell that this could be happening._ He couldn't decide if this was a fantasy or a nightmare.

"You know, Speed," Horatio began casually as he massaged the younger man's length, which had shrank quite a bit upon the redhead's arrival, "I'm jealous. I've been staring at his tight little backside for the last six months, and he hasn't looked at me twice. You, on the other hand, have known him for two days and you're already bringing him home to fuck his brains out on the couch."

The angle of his hand changed slightly, and Ryan guessed from the next few noises that the older man had dropped an unused couch cushion on the floor and was now kneeling to where he could get a better angle at Ryan's dick. Against his better judgment, Ryan opened his mouth, slightly muffled by the couch cushions. "You've been staring at my ass this whole time?"

Horatio's voice took on a surprised note. "I'm surprised that you haven't noticed, as perceptive as you are. Then again, it took you a week to stop calling me 'Lieutenant.'"

Speed snorted, picking up his pace a little. "Just don't call him Master, or he'll never let you leave the house."

Ryan couldn't help but jerk his head up a little at that one, and at Speed's sudden change of angle that nailed his prostate dead-on. Fresh air hit his nose, and suddenly he felt a finger on his chin, tugging gently but insistently, and he couldn't help it—couldn't stop it, oh _GOD_, here it comes—and suddenly he was staring straight into Horatio's sapphire blue eyes.

"Hi," the older man said quietly, as if he was reassuring a small child.

Ryan gulped. "Hi," he managed back, mindful of the redhead's hand that was stroking his cock to full length. Speed nailed his prostate again, and he couldn't hold back a groan.

Horatio studied his face for a moment. "You have nothing to be afraid of, Ryan."

Ryan blinked; it was the first time Horatio had called him by his first name. "S-sure," he stammered as Speed began to fuck him a little faster.

Horatio glanced up at his lover. "Speed, you coming?"

"Soon," came the reply, through gritted teeth. Horatio released Ryan's cock and stood high enough to capture his lover's lips again, one slim hand running across the hairy chest to tease a nipple. "God, H, he's so fucking tight," Speed moaned into the redhead's mouth.

"Then show him how much you appreciate it," Horatio growled back, pinching the nipple harder. Speed jerked and doubled his efforts to fuck the stuffing out of the younger man below him. Horatio built up the moment, suddenly moving his free hand to thread his fingers through the shorter hair at the base of his lover's skull just as he liked to have done to him, yanking Speed's head back and sinking down to clamp teeth on Speed's good shoulder. Horatio applied light pressure for a moment before snarling one more word: "Now."

Speed groaned loudly as he came, hips pistoning him into Ryan's waiting tightness, the condom filling with his seed as he drove himself into that blessed darkness one last time. Ryan couldn't help a loud grunt as Speed's last thrust slammed into his prostate, and surprisingly he almost came at the sensation. But then the pressure stopped, and he waited there with Speed's cock quivering into his insides.

Finally, slowly, tenderly Speed pulled out and sagged back onto his heels. "Whoof," he panted, and Horatio chuckled.

Ryan started to move when he felt Horatio's hand on his cock again. "Ryan, would you sit up for me, please?" the redhead inquired politely.

Somehow Ryan got the nerve to look at him. "Why?"

Horatio smiled, humoring him. "Because I want to put your dick in my mouth and suck on it," he said calmly, as if it was the most normal thing in the world to say.

Ryan froze, his cock swelling in Horatio's hand, and Speed chuckled. "Do it, Ryan," he urged. "H gives the best damn blowjobs in the world, hands-down."

Horatio glanced at his lover. "You're biased."

"So?" Speed peeled the condom off and dropped it in the trash can hidden under the table at his end of the couch, and then reached over to tug on Ryan's hip, trying to convince him to move. "Ryan, it's okay. You don't have to if you don't want to."

Horatio gave a soft sigh. "I can understand your nervousness. It's one thing to sleep with a coworker. It's quite another if his boyfriend, who is also your boss, catches you in the act and invites himself to join in. You have my word, I will not hold anything against you. I will not embarrass you, and I will not tell a single soul."

"Like I said, Ryan," Speed cut in, "we've been screwing for about a year, and Eric still thinks H is straight."

Ryan looked at his boss a bit more closely, not quite turning. "So you're gay, too?"

"Not quite. Speed's gotten me to prefer men, but I simply don't see the point in alienating half the population because they happen to have one set of genitals or another." Horatio's face and voice said that he was completely serious. Softly he asked, "May I have you, Ryan? At least for a little while?"

There was a long silence, broken by a sudden snort. "'May I have you?'" Speed repeated incredulously. "Come on, H, we're naked and sweaty. Nobody's fooling anybody. Say what you mean and mean what you say, for fuck's sake."

Speed's own bluntness broke through Ryan's nerves, and he found his resolve crumbling as he broke out into helpless laughter. Even Horatio couldn't resist snorting at his lover's off-the-cuff remarks. "Don't mind him," the redhead growled good-naturedly in Ryan's direction. "He's usually like this after he gets off."

"It's either this, or fall asleep," Speed agreed.

Ryan shook his head and grinned as he sat fully up, his legs finding their way over Horatio's shoulders. "You really want to?"

For his answer, Horatio engulfed Ryan's cock in one smooth motion, causing the younger man to sit straight up and grasp the redhead's shoulders, moaning unabashedly. Speed gave a dirty little grin as he laid a hand on their young partner's shoulder, gently urging him to lay back and relax. Ryan finally did once Horatio raised up for breath, and Speed ran a slow hand down Ryan's chest to tweak a nipple, and Ryan jerked.

"Like that?" Speed breathed in Ryan's ear.

His face tight, Ryan was struggling to breathe, much less talk. "Actually… no," he wheezed. Both Horatio and Speed halted, staring at him. "Oh, no, keep going, H. Please keep going. It's just… my nipples are ticklish."

"Oh," Speed said simply, his fingers moving to the thin patch of hair on Ryan's chest. "Why didn't you say that earlier?"

It took Ryan a moment to answer. "Because you were about to make me cream myself!" he gasped, as Horatio teased the tight pucker of his anus with his finger. "Oh, God," he moaned.

Speed leaned over to see what had provoked the reaction, saw Horatio's wet finger—when did he have time to lick it?—sliding into that tight heat, and he gave a dark smile. "Hey, Mikey, I think he likes it."

Horatio just smiled back and twisted his finger, and Ryan gave the same uncomfortable gasp as before. Speed remembered and spoke up. "Sorry, H, forgot to mention it. He's not much of a prostate player."

Horatio grunted acknowledgement and left the younger man's prostate alone, instead pumping his finger in and out of the velvet passage with maddening slowness.

"H?" Ryan's strained voice managed to squeak out.

"Hmm?" the redhead hummed around his mouthful of cock, and Ryan groaned at the sensation.

"I… I want you to fuck me. Please?"

Horatio glanced at Speed, who nodded and reached under the enclosed end table for another condom. Horatio took it with a nod of thanks as he gave the head of the younger man's cock one last teasing lick, and stood.

Speed leaned over and gave Ryan a long, slow kiss as Horatio undressed, causing the younger man to groan and run his fingers through Speed's scruffy black hair, begging for more.

Ryan sat properly on the couch with his legs hanging over the side, but apparently that was too low. He was suddenly in the middle of a flurry of arms and fabric as the two older men began urging him to scoot to one side or the other so they could pile random cushions under him. It was when they were done and sat back to admire their handiwork that he realized, he was perfectly positioned for Horatio to lean down and fuck Ryan's brains out.

Horatio stood before Ryan, magnificently naked and with a condom over his hard length, and the redhead gave a reassuring smile as he rested his knees on the edge of the couch and put his hands to the back of the couch on either side of Ryan's head. "Are you sure?" Horatio asked for the last time.

Ryan nodded. "I'm sure. Fuck me, H. Please fuck me."

Speed and Horatio exchanged glances and a shrug. "You heard the man," Speed grinned as he took hold of Horatio's cock, aiming.

Horatio gave a groan of utter satisfaction as he slid slowly in, coming to rest completely buried in Ryan, who arched his back and moaned. Speed bent over to capture Ryan's lips, stroking the younger man's cock as Horatio began to fuck him in quick, short thrusts. Ryan writhed and sucked on Speed's tongue while the redhead's pace increased until he was pounding into the slim body beneath him, his hips slapping against Ryan's tight ass and bouncing him on the couch. Ryan had already been close to coming, and as Horatio slammed into him over and over, Ryan clutched at Speed desperately and threaded his hand with Speed's on his cock, fisting his rod in a blur of motion as he jerked and groaned and came, a single long arc of come splattering on his chest.

Horatio jerked as Ryan's already tight ass now gripped him almost painfully, and his entire body shuddered. Ryan was beginning to wind down but Horatio couldn't make himself stop; he could only fuck himself harder, faster into that hot passage, gripping the couch and gritting his teeth and slamming into Ryan with everything he had. Speed noticed and moved until he was directly in his lover's sight, fixing him with a hard stare. "Do you want to come, Horatio?"

The redhead couldn't answer; he could only gasp for air and thrust into that incredible heat.

"H? I want you to come _now!_" Speed took on his Dom voice, the tone that brooked no argument, the tone that Horatio couldn't help but _obey_.

Horatio reared his head back and snarled as he fired his hips one last time, burying himself in Ryan's tight, hot body, his eyes rolling back in his head as his cock throbbed and flooded the condom with warmth. When he was finished, his legs began to quake.

Ryan was staring at him with wide eyes. "H? You okay?"

Horatio could only give an exhausted nod and, with absolutely no grace whatsoever, flop down onto the couch and right into the waiting arms of Speed. "Told you he was tight," Speed murmured, pressing a kiss to his lover's damp copper hair as the older man panted. They stayed in that position for a while, cooling off until their brains decided to come back to them.

Finally Horatio growled an affirmative as he held out an arm to Ryan, who nervously crawled over and copied Horatio's posture with his lover. "You don't have to be afraid of us, Ryan."

Ryan wasn't so sure. "So what happens now?"

Horatio thought carefully before responding. "Now, we cool off. Then we eat something and take a shower, unless you'd like the shower to yourself first, and then we talk some more. After that, Speed and I need to go run a few errands so we'll have to let you out."

"And tomorrow," Speed picked up on the thread, "We're gonna act like absolutely nothing has happened. As far as the world knows, H is straight and he's letting me live here because my arm's still a little fucked up, and because my mystery boyfriend can't afford to come out of the closet."

Ryan tilted his head. "And is the only time?"

Speed blinked. "Only time what? That we'll fuck you?"

Shyly Ryan nodded.

Horatio and Speed exchanged glances, smiling at each other. "Transformation complete," Speed whispered softly, and Horatio gave him a corrective poke. "As to your question, Ryan, I'm sure that we could invite you over every now and then, if you get really high and dry. And if you're desperately single, I know a guy that could probably set you up with a few dates."

Ryan started to nod but an odd noise caught his attention. "Hey, you guys hear that?"

"Hear what?" Horatio asked, peering around the room.

At that instant, all three gazes were drawn to a flash of movement across the room: Locard, standing in the doorway to the kitchen, staring with his head cocked at the pile of naked humans on the couch.

"How does he keep getting out?!" Speed ranted from the bottom of the pile.

"Probably the doorknob," Horatio reasoned. "It's a handle model, remember? He's tall enough to reach it if he stands on his hind legs."

Ryan pulled himself away from the other men, watching the animal. "That's one damn smart dog you two have."

"Told you," Speed growled. "Locard, get back in the laundry room."

Hearing his name, the dog did exactly the opposite: he wagged his tail and began charging for the couch. "Locard, no!" Ryan started, but it was too late, and their little gathering became a true dog pile. Being on top of the pile, Ryan was the first to suffer the dog's sharp claws and rampant tongue all over his face and chest.

Speed squirmed out from under the other two and grabbed Locard's collar. "I love you, too, buddy, but I'm not into beastiality."

"Neither am I," Ryan said with a frown, and Horatio concurred.

The redhead stood and stretched. "Well, gentlemen, who wants the shower first?"

Ryan shyly raised his hand. "If you don't mind, I'll take the guest shower. I, uh… it's _your_ place, and…"

"You don't feel comfortable in your boss's shower," Horatio finished dryly. "Even though your boss recently finished pounding your brains out?"

Ryan gave a grudging nod. "I'm kinda weird like that."

"Takes all kinds," Speed put in. "And I propped a chair underneath the doorknob." Evidently he had; Locard quickly realized this and began barking.

The three men chuckled at each other. "I have to ask, Speed," Horatio started. "What prompted this little spur-of-the-moment screw on the couch?"

Speed snorted. Ryan chuckled. Speed's shoulders shook. Ryan was nearly choking, from trying to contain his laughter. And finally Speed let loose, with Ryan quickly joining in. The two younger men flopped carefully on the couch, howling.

"Well?" Horatio asked reasonably.

Speed finally caught his breath. "Locard got loose, and Ryan chased him up to the bedroom. And, being the OCD CSI that he is, when he caught Locard on the bed, he couldn't help but notice that the pillows were sporting two different colors of hair."

"Evidence in plain sight," Ryan insisted. "And I was invited in, while doing a public service."

Horatio chuckled. "So you blame the dog."

Speed nodded. "Damn you, Locard," he said to the ceiling with a shake of his fist.

"Which one?" Ryan put in, and the older men snorted.

The banter was friendly as they found their respective clothes and took turns showering. Ryan was in good spirits as they parted, and he surprised himself by whistling as he walked out the front door toward his car.

THE NEXT DAY

"Good morning, Mr. Wolfe," Horatio said evenly. Ryan looked up from his coffee and newspaper in the break room, to see the redhead and his lover standing in the doorway.

Ryan carefully controlled the flush that threatened to color his face. "Good morning," he replied calmly.

Speed slipped past his lover, 'accidentally' bumping against his shoulder as he moved to the coffeepot. "How you feeling?"

Ryan blinked and swallowed another mouthful of coffee before setting it down. "Great, actually. Haven't felt this good in a while."

Horatio glanced around to make sure they weren't being eavesdropped up before murmuring "A threesome will do that to you." Ryan finally started to blush and scratch his neck, and the older man smiled.

Speed cackled as he filled a coffee mug. "We need to invite Mac and Danny both down sometime. Have ourselves a little CSI orgy."

Horatio gave a quick laugh at the suggestion. "And their friend, Detective Flack. From what Mac tells me, they've quote 'brought him over to the dark side,' endquote, as Danny puts it."

Speed snickered. "Oh, and a friend of a friend tells me that there's a couple of guys out in Vegas that might be up for it."

Ryan jumped in despite himself. "We could sell videos. 'Criminalists Gone Wild.'" Speed reared his head back and howled with laughter, and even Horatio gave in.

"I have to ask, Ryan," Speed started in a quieter tone, still snickering. "When did you decide that you wanted to start doing guys, too?"

Ryan folded the newspaper and sighed. "There's no 'too' to it. I don't do women."

Speed perked up. "Really. Why not?"

"I don't know." Ryan shrugged. "I'm just… not turned on by women. That's all there is to it."

Speed tilted his head; not every gay man was so just because they thought female genitalia was gross. Some, like his friend Leon, just wanted to be the ones getting fucked. And some, like Ryan, simply were not aroused by females.

"All the more for me, then," Horatio said with an uncharacteristic laugh, and Speed snorted.

"There was one thing I was curious about," Speed began cautiously. "That reporter that I keep seeing on the news…"

"Erica Sikes," Ryan growled, his good mood instantly shattered.

"Yeah, her. I keep getting the impression that you're seeing her. But if you're gay, then why keep putting up with the bitch?"

Horatio stepped in. "Because that's exactly why. She knows, and she's keeping it quiet."

"She doesn't know the meaning of the word 'quiet,'" Ryan muttered. "Fine. I went on a date with her, you know… a cover date, with a woman." Speed and Horatio nodded. "Well, she actually got me drunk enough to try to start fooling around, but when I couldn't get it up, she figured it out. Keeps hanging off my arm like some kind of trophy, wanting me to give her more exclusives, or she'd tell."

Speed had a sudden thought. "She's not stalking you, is she?"

All of them froze, and Ryan almost leaned around the corner as though to glance at the elevator. "She wouldn't do that," he said finally. "She just calls me when she wants something from me."

Horatio gave a long-suffering sigh. "Speaking of needing something from you, Mr. Wolfe, you and I need to get to work, and so does Speed."

Speed pouted. "Aw, can't we just go back home and fuck like bunny-rats some more?"

Horatio took on his 'Shift Supervisor' persona, fighting back the smile that threatened his face. "Maybe later. And let's give our friend a chance to recover, shall we?"

"Fine," Speed grumbled and stood. "Back to the boxes for me. Dig me out at lunch time, will ya?"

"Will do," Horatio promised. Ryan watched as Speed walked past the redhead, the two casually brushing hands and shoulders as Speed exited the room and headed for his little corner of the institution.

"You guys are good at that," Ryan remarked. "If I didn't know any better, I'd swear that you two are just roommates."

Horatio finally let his smile loose. "Good. And we appreciate you keeping our secret."

Ryan spread his hands. "Hey, I'm getting laid for the first time in months. Why would I complain?"

"Good point," Horatio muttered. "Come on, let's get to work."

"Right behind you, boss," Ryan affirmed, standing.

And, just as Horatio had predicted, it was a _very_ long day.

THREE WEEKS LATER, or SIX MONTHS AND THREE WEEKS AFTER SHOOTING

"Hey, Mac! How've you been?"

Mac turned and shouldered his flight bag, nudging down his sunglasses. He hadn't realized that Miami could be so blasted _hot_ in August, and he was starting to regret the black T-shirt and black jeans. At least his sneakers were white.

"Been a while." Speed stuck out his right hand in greeting. He had on a pale blue T-shirt with a pair of angry-looking eyes on the front, and below the eyes were the words 'Speaking is NOT communication.' His jeans hung loose, and his sneakers were old and battered.

Mac smiled broadly at the gesture, and returned it. "Been fine. Good to see your arm works again."

Speed nodded. "Just had the surgery last week. There was a pinched nerve, but they finally fixed it. I am _healed_!" Mac chuckled as he turned to grab his garment bag and follow his host out of the terminal and into the parking lot.

As Mac put his belongings into Horatio's car, Speed was quietly thinking. It was good to see the Marine again, but recent events had made Speed more than a little irritated towards their New York friend. Speed and Horatio had already agreed to not say anything, but… the thought of Danny's predicament just made Speed's blood boil.

Mac had broken up with Danny.

Mac was _still_ pining for his beloved wife—who had died on 9/11—and when Danny had nearly said the 'three little words,' Mac had spooked. Then Claire's son had appeared, and brought back all sorts of memories too painful for the Marine to sort out. Feeling paranoid about society, uneasy about being in love with another man, and feeling somehow unfaithful to Claire, Mac had left Danny.

Speed was just _dying_ to let Mac have it, to run him up one side and down the other for being so callous with Danny, for just dumping him like that, for fucking the Italian for _nine months_ and then just telling him to "go home, and I'll see you at work tomorrow." Danny had even been contemplating suicide after the breakup, but fate had been kind enough to give Danny the wild idea to call Horatio. It took a lot of encouragement from Horatio and Speed, but thankfully now Danny was only drinking like a fish and not adding aspirin and razor blades to the mix.

The thought that anyone, especially such a strong and even-tempered man such as Mac, could be so _cold_ made Speed angry enough that had Horatio not cautioned against such, Speed may have even struck at the Marine. Such thoughts were counter-productive, not to mention hazardous to Speed's health, and Horatio sternly reminded his lover to control the volatile temperament that both of them had inherited from the Emerald Isle. Thankfully Horatio had a better handle on it than Speed did, and so Speed had grudgingly agreed to let the redhead do most of the talking.

For now.

"You like dogs, Mac?" Speed asked as he unlocked the door to the house and closed up the garage.

Carrying his luggage, Mac nodded. "Sure, why? You have one now?"

"Yup." Speed turned to head into the kitchen. "Set your bags down in the living room, first. He's kinda… energetic."

Mac smiled and moved to lay his bags on the couch as Speed walked through the kitchen toward the laundry room. "Ready?" came the younger man's voice.

Mac cocked his head. "Yeah."

There was the faint sound of a door opening. "Incoming!" Speed shouted, and Mac's eyes widened as the dog shot into the living room, noticed the guest, and made a beeline for him. Mac couldn't help a laugh as the ecstatic canine face closed in on him, and the Marine allowed himself to fall back on the couch as Speed's dog bounded into his lap and began cleaning his face.

"Locard, off!" Speed snapped, and the dog got in a few last licks before dropping back to the floor.

Mac's lips curled in amusement. "Locard?"

Speed nodded. "Yep, that's Locard."

The Marine cocked his head as he stood. "Why, because he's smart?"

"Well, that," Speed allowed, giving a slow nod. "And this." He stepped over to Mac and bumped shoulders with him, and then stood back.

Mac blinked, then looked at his arm. "Oh. Locard's Theorem. Whenever two beings come into contact, they transfer small pieces of themselves to each other."

Speed snickered. "And this Locard here is damn good at transfer."

"I can see that," Mac said wryly, brushing at the white hairs clinging to his shirt. They were stubborn things, though, and weren't giving up without a fight. It seemed like for every one he pulled off, two more floated up on the drafts to his black shirt. There were black hairs, too, but they weren't nearly as noticeable.

Speed ruffled his dog's headfur. "Mind taking the same bedroom as last time? I need to take Locard on a walk. H should be getting home in about…" he checked his watch, "an hour."

Mac shrugged, gathered his things and headed upstairs while Locard dashed and pranced in quick circles around his owner. Mac found his bedroom with no trouble and unpacked his bag efficiently and neatly. He inspected the guest bathroom—and why he always did that first, he had no idea—and decided to take a quick shower.

His hair was damp when he padded back downstairs, barefoot and wearing a clean pair of jeans and an old Marines t-shirt that proclaimed him to be a "Weapon of Mass Destruction." Locard was snuggled up on the couch, but lifted his head and wagged his tail at the approaching Marine. Mac smiled and gave the dog a scratch. "Where's Tim, huh?" he asked the dog.

Locard had no reply, but Mac heard the sound of metal clattering in the kitchen, and he walked in that direction. He paused in the doorway to watch Speed fire up the electric mixer in a large bowl of something. When he was done, Speed dropped the beater attachments in one side of the sink (where a deposit of large, soapy water was already waiting) and reached for an ice cream scoop.

Mac came closer as Speed scooped out a nice little chunk of the dough and dropped it on a greased pan nearby. From the Marine's standpoint, it was a pale tan color and appeared to have chocolate chips in it.

Mac peered over his shoulder. "Cookies?"

Speed shrugged and neatly placed another dollop of dough on the greased pan. "Yeah, it's been a while since I've had chocolate-chip cookies, and I figured what the hell."

Mac watched for a moment. "Is there anywhere besides the street that I could use to go for a run in the morning?"

"Yeah," Speed said with a nod, "Go out the back door and follow the path, and there's a little boardwalk. Our property lines are marked with lines of white beach fence. There's not much room, but you could always go for a swim instead of running. Just watch out for the rip tide."

Mac checked his waterproof wristwatch as he mopped at himself again with the soaked beach towel and headed up to the house, the late afternoon sun beating down on his back; next time, he'd have to remember extra sunscreen. Swimming in the Atlantic had brought a welcome respite from the heat, but now he was not only sweating _again_, he was sure that he could feel the water in his hair evaporating and leaving the salt crystals behind.

New York could get deathly hot, too, but at least there was less humidity up there. Mac hadn't sweat this much in a single day since he'd gotten out of the Marines.

Having dried himself as thoroughly as he could, Mac tied the towel around the swim trunks covering his modesty and reentered the house. There was no sign of Horatio or Speed, and Locard could be heard grumbling from the laundry room. The pan of cookies was sitting on top of the oven—or at least, the pan itself was. The cookies were gone.

Mac lifted an eyebrow and headed upstairs. His shirt and jeans were still clean, so he decided to take another shower. The water pressure was a bit lower than earlier, but that didn't bother Mac. Horatio was probably taking a shower of his own in the master bath.

Feeling refreshed, Mac dressed himself and padded out into the hallway. The bedroom door at the end of the hallway was open, and Mac saw something beyond the opening that made him stop dead in his tracks.

Not something, but some_one_. Moving closer, Mac reached the doorway and halted at the sight before him.

Speed was on his knees, his mouth open, his face flushed, panting quietly. He was also naked, and hard as steel. There was an eye mask covering his eyes, the kind that is often used to help a person sleep on an airplane. His arms were crossed behind his back so that he was almost gripping his elbows, and he had a collar around his neck. On the floor in front of him was a sheet of paper, with the writing facing Mac, that proclaimed "You may look, but please do not disturb. He is not allowed to move or speak."

Mac's eyebrows hit the ceiling as he circled around the kneeling man, and he was surprised to see that the leash clipped to the collar was draped down Speed's back, wrapped around his wrists. There was just enough slack that so long as Speed didn't relax his arms then the collar wouldn't choke him. As widespread as Speed's knees were, his feet were rather close together, and there was a reason for it: Horatio's handcuffs were on Speed's ankles. Leaning in for a better look, Mac heard the unmistakable sound of a vibrator, and he tracked the noise to a plug between Speed's lightly furred asscheeks.

_What the hell?_

Mac stood and glanced around. In the master bathroom, he could hear indeed hear the shower running. He glanced from the doorway to the note, and back to Speed. The cop in him wanted nothing more than to untie the man and set him free, but at the same time… he looked like he was enjoying himself, on some level.

The water in the bathroom shut off, and Mac stalked through the doorway and onto the tiled floor, where Horatio had just begun scrubbing the towel up his ankles. Hearing the footsteps, the naked and dripping redhead glanced up, saw the expression on his face, and carefully schooled his own expression to one of unconcern.

"Horatio, what in the hell are you doing to him?" Mac demanded.

The older man worked the towel up his thighs and hips. "He asked me to do it."

Mac put his hands on his hips, giving his host a disbelieving look. "He _asked_ you to tie him up, stick a vibrator in him, and tell him he can't move or talk?"

"More or less," Horatio said with a casual nod and swung the towel around behind him, pulling it back and forth and working his way up his back. "Speed is what they call a bondage bottom. It's a fetish of his, to be tied up and dominated."

"You mean…" Mac took a glance back at the kneeling, seemingly oblivious man. "He's getting off on this?"

"Once I give him permission to, yes."

The Marine's gaze whipped back to Horatio. "Permission?"

"Permission to come." Horatio rubbed the towel firmly over his chest and arms. "It's one of the basic rules of submission, that you never come until you are given permission to do so."

Mac could only stand there, his hands on his hips, watching Horatio briskly run the fabric over his hair. "How…"

"You've never done anything like this, have you?" Horatio asked dryly, wrapping the towel around his waist and knotting it at the hip. He was a little surprised; Mac had been so aghast that he hadn't seemed the least bit bothered—or aroused—at Horatio's nudity. Truly the Marine had a one-track mind in many aspects. Had Speed not been blindfolded, he probably would've been drooling.

Horatio reached for the little shelf next to the sink and grabbed his bristle-brush—like an oversized toothbrush, really—and straightened his hair. "As I told you before, Mac, it's not about domination and controlling someone else. It's about trust and controlling yourself."

"So you're not controlling him by doing that?"

"Well, in a way, I am," Horatio admitted, "in that I'm the one giving the commands, and I'm the one with the keys to the handcuffs. He is also in control, in that he asked for this scene, and he decides how far it goes."

Mac leaned against the doorframe, watching the near-naked redhead with an entirely platonic gaze. "So what if he wants out of it?"

Horatio glanced over his shoulder. "Speed, what's your safeword?"

Speed swallowed. "David."

Horatio nodded. "Thank you."

Mac cocked his head. "'David?'"

"It's my middle name," Horatio said offhandedly, moving to plug in the hair dryer. "And my safeword is his middle name, Allen."

Nothing else could be said while the appliance was running, so Mac wandered back out into the bedroom and took a seat on the loveseat on the wall opposite the bed, watching Speed. The bound man had started to tremble, faintly, at the sound of the hair dryer, and like Pavlov's experiments of old, the minute the dryer was shut off Speed's cock gave a definite twitch.

Horatio stepped into the bedroom, wearing nothing but a towel and apparently unconcerned. He was rather more modest than Speed, but at the same time he knew that it wasn't anything that Mac hadn't seen before.

"So what are you going to do to him?" Mac began. "Beat him?"

Horatio tilted his head. "I don't think so. Not right now, anyway. I think I'll just play with him for a little while."

Mac's brow furrowed. "What do you mean, play with him? Just stroke him off?"

The slim, freckled shoulders shrugged smoothly. "Whatever I feel like, really. Some of the best scenes are those that you make up as you go along." He noticed the Marine's look. "I know what you're thinking, and that's that I'm too old for this, and I would have to disagree. We don't stop playing because we grow old, Mac. We grow old _because_ we stop playing."

The redhead walked past Speed and over to the bed, seating himself on the edge and looking at his lover. "You look, hungry, Speed. Would you like something to eat?" Horatio crooned.

If it was somehow possible, Speed got harder. "If it pleases you, sir."

Horatio gave a dark chuckle. "Come closer to me."

Mac watched as the kneeling, blindfolded man with the bound wrists and handcuffed ankles somehow managed to shuffle his way over to the older man sitting on the bed.

"Very good," Horatio praised, running his fingers through the scruffy black hair. He bent for something on the floor, and Mac was amused to see a wine bucket full of ice. What was puzzling was that the wine bucket held… a half-gallon jug of milk? Horatio's face was serene as he poured some into a glass on the nightstand, and then reached behind him on the bed for a plate that Mac hadn't previously noticed; he'd been distracted, after all. On the plate were Speed's cookies.

Horatio noticed Mac's look. "It's calming, really," he said offhandedly as he grasped a cookie and dunked it in the milk. "It also reinforces trust. It shows him that I will provide for him, and that good things will come to him if he behaves."

Mac's breath caught in his throat as Horatio held the slightly soggy treat close to his lover's lips. Speed scented it and opened his mouth, nosing around until he found it. Speed took small, slow bites until the entire thing was gone, and then he sensually licked and sucked Horatio's fingers clean.

Horatio flicked a glance at Mac and saw that puzzlement had been replaced by incredulous arousal. He gave an inner smile of triumph and dunked another cookie in the milk, and the process was repeated. "You look like you're a little thirsty, Speed," Horatio murmured. "Would you like a drink?"

A small tremor ran through Speed's body. "Only if it pleases you, sir," he whispered again.

Horatio smiled down at his lover. "It would please me very much." He reached down and pulled off the eye mask. "I want to see your eyes first, though," he said quietly, cupping Speed's chin. The big brown eyes looked back at him, full of submission and of trust. "I love you," Horatio whispered, bending down to press a gentle kiss to Speed's lips, and the brown eyes closed as Speed drank up the attention.

"Now, how about that drink?" Horatio murmured, slowly pulling back. He straightened and took a small mouthful of ice-cold milk from the glass, then tossed a glance at Mac before bending down and capturing Speed's lips again. He was too preoccupied to see the Marine's reaction, but he heard the shifting and the quiet intake of breath as Horatio filled Speed's mouth, and the younger man dutifully swallowed it and licked the inside of Horatio's mouth once, politely, before withdrawing.

"Anything you want to say to me, Pet?" Horatio asked as he gazed down lovingly at Speed.

Speed gazed back at him with those warm, trusting brown eyes. "I love you."

Horatio smiled and filled his mouth with the milk again, giving his lover another drink, and he could definitely hear Mac's breath hitch. He glanced up and quirked a smile. "Mac, you look like you're enjoying yourself," the redhead remarked casually. Mac blinked, then glanced down at his pants and the obvious tent in his crotch. "Would you like to feed Speed?"

_Would you like to feed my puppy?_ Horatio was just that casual, and Mac couldn't believe his ears. "You mean to tell me that he would just sit there and do that?" Mac asked.

Horatio smiled. "He'll do whatever I want him to. Won't you, Speed?" He threw a glance at the kneeling man.

Speed looked up at him. "Anything you want, sir," he said calmly and firmly.

Horatio poured a little more milk and looked at his lover. "Take this over to Mac, and if you spill so much as a drop, you will be punished." Horatio extended the glass. Speed eyed it for a moment, considering the best course of action, before leaning forward and clenching the opposite rim of the glass firmly between his teeth so that his chin was down in the container somewhat. He turned a bit awkwardly and made his way slowly across the carpet toward Mac, who took the cup with a faintly trembling hand.

Speed thought hard about that as he began the slow trek back toward Horatio. The look in the redhead's eyes confirmed that he'd seen it, too: Mac was definitely getting turned on by Speed's subservience. Speed wondered idly if he was indulging in a fantasy of doing this to Danny, but put it out of his mind once he opened his mouth and allowed Horatio to put two cookies between his teeth.

Speed shuffled slowly across the floor toward the seated Marine, and even though Mac was looking at him, neither of the Miami pair was sure that he was really seeing Speed. Horatio figured that he was probably imagining Danny in Speed's position.

Mac dropped one cookie on the loveseat next to him and dunked the other one, holding it out with a hand that was definitely twitching, and Speed calmly and gently ate his prize. Then Mac's jaw went slack and his eyes glazed as Speed gazed up at him with those soft brown eyes while he sucked tenderly on Mac's fingers. Mac's breath hitched as Speed swirled his tongue around them before sucking them into his mouth, pulling back with just the faintest touches of teeth, and Mac fought down a groan.

Horatio watched it all. _So, Mac has a hidden hot spot, hmm? He likes to have his fingers sucked_. He filed the little tidbit away for later, content for now to take in the sight of a definitely aroused Mac gazing down at Speed with glassy eyes, his free hand running fingers absently through his own hair. _A signal. He sometimes runs his fingers through his hair when he's getting turned on_, Horatio noted.

"Mac?" Horatio's voice jarred the Marine out of his reverie. "Mac, would you like for Speed to do something for you?"

Mac couldn't find a way to put the words together, but Horatio read him correctly anyway. "Would you like Speed to suck you off, Mac?" the redhead asked sensually, and Mac felt his painfully hard cock give a definite twitch. "Undo your belt, Mac. He'll do the rest."

Mac fumbled one-handed with his belt, somehow unwilling to take his fingers from the caressing warmth of Speed's mouth, but he finally had to. With something almost like a growl, Mac unbuckled his belt and suddenly Speed's nose was to his fly, working the button with his lips and grasping the zipper with his teeth and tugging it down slowly. The tip of Mac's impressive cock poked out from the front of his boxers, and Speed gently nudged around it until it was free, the thick rod standing straight and proud and with a surprising amount of precome leaking from the slit.

Horatio chuckled. "Something must be agreeing with you, Mac."

Mac gave a shaky nod as Speed hovered scant millimeters away from Mac's cock, his breath warm on the sensitive flesh. Mac frowned and twitched his hips, but Speed drew back, playing chicken with him. Mac tossed a glance at Horatio, who gave a casual shrug. "Speed, you may give Mac a blowjob, but it's up to Mac to tell you how he wants it."

Something flicked in Mac's brain, and he placed a broad hand on the back of Speed's head, aimed with his other hand, and caused the two to meet. Speed couldn't hold back his groan as Mac's beer can of a dick filled his mouth completely; he had to concentrate to avoid scraping the Marine with his teeth. He took a desperate breath through his nose as Mac pushed his head all the way down, a low growl emanating from the older man's throat.

"Remember that he has to breathe, Mac," Horatio chided. "I don't mind you doing that to him—he loves it when you do that, by the way—but please be considerate of his airways from time to time. Speed, you have a signal to use if you need to breathe?"

In answer, Speed snapped his fingers twice, and Mac released him. "Good," Horatio told both of them. "Go for it, Speed."

Speed took a deep breath, swallowed to close the epiglottal valve, and Mac felt the head of his dick slide into Speed's esophagus. Mac gave an animal growl and grasped Speed's head roughly, bucking his hips up before sliding back and giving the younger man's pharynx a break, and if Speed could have—his airways were blocked, after all—he would have moaned as that glorious hard monster cock raped his mouth over and over.

Twice he had to snap his fingers in order to be allowed to breathe, but in short order Mac was growling and shaking and then coming hard, his cock twitching and firing a blast of come into Speed's throat, and Speed swallowed it gladly and milked Mac for all he was worth, seeking more.

Finally Mac released the younger man, who pulled back and gently licked Mac's cock clean, then knelt with his back straight before the Marine, calmly waiting for more commands. Mac couldn't think of any. All he could think of was how fast and how _hard_ he'd just come.

"Speed?" Horatio's voice came, and Speed shuffled in an about-face. Horatio stood in the middle of the floor, a white towel and a bottle of lube on the floor at his feet, and one hand gently stroking himself. "Come here, Speed," Horatio ordered calmly, and Speed made his slow way to his lover, who reached down to cup his cheek. "That was very good, Speed," the redhead said softly. "Finish getting me hard."

Horatio was already stone hard but Speed complied anyway, stretching his neck out as Horatio's length slid into his mouth, and back out, slowly and gently fucking the younger man's face. Speed's eyes were closed as he worshipped the redhead's shaft, keeping a tight seal of suction that had Horatio gritting his teeth in no time. "Turn around, Speed," Horatio hissed, and Speed released him and turned to face Mac again.

Horatio lowered himself to a crouch behind Speed and slowly pulled out the vibrating plug, silencing it and laying it on the nearby towel before reaching for the AstroGlide and slicking up his own length. "Are you ready for me, Speed?" Horatio rumbled as he positioned himself. In answer, Speed pushed gently back, inviting Horatio to press forward. "Good boy," Horatio growled, gripping the younger man's hips and pushing himself in.

Speed moaned as Horatio slid completely inside, and Horatio gave a satisfied sigh as his cock was enveloped in his lover's heat. "God, Speed, you're perfect," Horatio groaned, swaying back and forth on the balls of his feet. His hands gently encouraged the younger man to lower his face to the carpet, his ass a perfect target for Horatio's repeated thrusts.

The redhead glanced up at Mac. The Marine's cock was slowly coming back to life, still hanging from his open fly, and his eyes were locked onto Speed's gently ecstatic face. Crouching behind his lover, Horatio raised one hand and brought it down on Speed's flank with a sharp slap, and the younger man jerked his head up and moaned.

Mac's eyes widened. "He _likes_ that?"

Horatio shrugged his shoulders as he pumped in and out of that tight heat. "When he's like this, he enjoys being degraded, to a small extent." He pulled back enough so that only the tip of his dick rested in Speed and he reached down and grabbed two firm handfuls of the younger man's ass, kneading the globes between his fingers. Speed gave a watery groan and pressed his forehead into the carpet. Horatio smiled and drew his hands back, then sent underhanded slaps to both cheeks with both hands, then grasped them firmly and began _pounding_ his lover, and Speed arched his back and all but whimpered.

"Yes, you like that, don't you?" Horatio hissed, seizing Speed's hips and drawing that tight ass back onto himself. "Don't you, Pet?"

Speed's mouth worked for a moment, fighting off his arousal so he could speak. "It pleases you to do it, sir, and that's what I like."

Horatio smiled at him, bending to nip at a shoulder before rearing back and fucking his lover hard. His voice was still calm, and almost clinically dry as he spoke to Mac. "I'm more of an intensivist. I like to play with sensations, with pain, and generally just have sex. Speed here likes you to tie him up and do things to him."

Mac watched with glassy eyes as Horatio slammed in and out of his bound lover, the redhead's face tight and eyes closed, Speed panting as the fleshy rod ravaged his depths.

Horatio let out a loud growl, then sucked in a breath and thrust one last time, his ankles twitching as he came inside his lover. He stayed there for a moment, reveling in the wet heat before sliding out slowly. "Hold it in you," Horatio commanded. "I want to play with you while I know that you have my come inside you." Speed moaned and visibly clamped his sphincter closed, the tight muscle glistening with the thick liquid behind it.

"Very good," Horatio praised, running his fingers through the tangle of hair on Speed's chest. Speed jerked and groaned as both of Horatio's hands tweaked his nipples. "Roll over, Speed. On your back, and don't spill a single drop of my come." Speed did as he was told, and Horatio ran his fingers possessively over the hair on his lover's chest and belly. "You have such a wonderful body, Speed," the redhead rumbled. "You have a wonderful body and I love playing with it."

"Th-thank you, sir," Speed gasped as one of the slim hands grasped his cock.

"Speed, you may fuck my hand."

This didn't seem like much of a reward to Mac, but Speed let out a loud groan and began bucking his hips against Horatio's palm, letting the redhead jerk him off.

"Would you like to please me, Speed?" Horatio murmured loud enough for Mac to hear.

Speed arched his back. "Always, sir."

Horatio smiled and tightened his grip on Speed's thrusting cock. "You may come now."

Mac could see _something_ happen in Speed's body, the permission releasing its hold on the younger man's orgasm, and Speed bucked harder into Horatio's hand and gave a wrenching cry as his release tore through him, his cock sputtering the ivory streamers that rained down on the dark curls on his chest. Speed stayed like that, his hips up and his ass off the ground, Horatio firmly gripping his cock.

Eventually Speed's hips sagged and his rear came to rest on the floor, his chest heaving. Horatio's gaze was intense. "Look at me," he murmured, and Speed fastened his eyes on his lover as the redhead ran his fingers over the younger man's chest, collecting the blood-hot fluid on his fingertips and bringing them to his own mouth. Speed—and Mac—both sucked in a breath as Horatio sensually licked the thick fluid off his fingers, then bent down and gave the shrinking cock a lick, taking the head into his mouth and bathing it and cleansing it with his tongue.

Horatio released the cock and sat up. "Very good," he murmured. "You may speak, Speed."

Speed gazed up at his lover with such love and trust that Mac felt his breath catch in his throat. "I love you, H," Speed said firmly.

Horatio stroked his lover's cheek tenderly. "I love you, too, Speed. You were wonderful." Horatio bent down again, giving the younger man a sweet, loving kiss before sitting up again. "Unfortunately it's time to come level."

Speed sighed morosely and ducked his head, closing his eyes. There was a momentary silence, and when the brown-eyed man looked at them again, the submission was gone. "My knees hurt," he grumbled.

"Well, you're the one that misplaced the knee pads," Horatio said dryly. Speed gave a grudging nod and sat up, and he turned his back so that Horatio could untie him. The younger man threw a glance at Mac as his lover's hands worked on his bonds, and Speed saw Mac finally snap out of it, then glance down and stuff himself back into his pants.

"You liked that, Mac?" Speed asked calmly as his arms were freed, and brought his hands together in the front and rubbed his wrists. Horatio half-stood and slapped his hand around on the bed, looking for the key to his handcuffs.

Mac nodded slowly. "That was… intense."

Speed and Horatio hid their smiles; that scene had been incredibly mild compared to their normal level of play, but they hadn't wanted to scare their guest. Speed heard the snap of his ankle restraints being released, and he climbed to his feet and stretched. "Anything you want to ask me?"

Mac leaned back and thought a moment. "Just one thing, really: why?"

Speed knew what he meant; not 'why do you ask,' but 'why submit?' "Well, like H said, it's kinda a fetish of mine. And on another level, it shows him how much I trust him. Honestly, Mac, that scene was pretty damn tame considering what we usually do to each other."

Mac lifted an eyebrow. "And what do you usually do to each other?"

Speed paused to help Horatio to his feet, and the redhead put the lube back in the nightstand and folded the mostly-clean towel on the bed for Speed to sit. "Well, why don't you come clubbing with us tomorrow night and find out for yourself?"

The Marine froze, suddenly nervous. "I… I don't want to impose."

"Nonsense, Mac," Horatio cut in. "We'd be happy to have you come along. Consider it a learning experience, if only as further criminalist research." At Mac's puzzled look, Horatio continued. "You see a victim with ligature marks on the wrists and extensive bruising on the back, and you think 'abuse' or 'kidnapping.' To us, it could just as easily be someone who asked to be tied up and strapped."

Speed nodded. "A lot of things considered 'abusive' or even borderline 'torture' to people used to vanilla sex, well, for us it's par for the course. The difference is that we _ask_ for it, and we _stop_ when the bottom wants it stopped."

Mac cocked his head. "'Vanilla sex?'"

Speed scratched his neck. "Just regular, plain old intercourse. No kinks, no interesting positions, no bells or whistles or anything like that. Kinda like vanilla ice cream: nothing else has been added to it."

Mac leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, as Horatio dug around in one side of the dresser for boxers and a pair of jeans. "What's so great about submitting?" Mac asked Speed, who had sat down on the bed and was working on another milk-soaked cookie.

Speed shrugged one shoulder. "It's hard to explain, but it's kinda nice to just give yourself to somebody else."

Horatio nodded, sliding a T-shirt over his head. The shirt was dark blue and had a white-line picture of a stern police officer on it, and the caption said 'Hi, I'm going to kick your ass.' "Mac, you were in the Marines, so you know something about obedience. Do you ever remember feeling pleasure at following orders, at someone telling you what to do and you doing it, and they praise you?"

Mac gave a thoughtful nod. "Giving it 110% was always enough for me, but it's still nice to have somebody else acknowledge it."

Horatio sat next to Speed and swiped a cookie, and Speed growled and sat the plate down on his opposite side. Horatio eyed him calmly, and Speed sighed and put the plate back in his lap. Horatio smiled and continued. "There is a definite pleasure in pleasing someone else, Mac; Doms and subs take it one step further, where the sub strives with their entire being to please their Dom, their master. There is also the pleasure of discovering your limits, and surpassing them, and all in a safe and controlled environment."

Mac considered for a moment, processing that. "So, could you say that obedience and submission are the same thing?"

"No," Horatio growled, nearly cutting off the Marine's words. "There can be obedience without submission. I could order you to do something, and you would obey just to go along with it, to accede to my wishes."

"On the other hand," Speed continued, "submission isn't an act, it's a state of mind. I _wanted_ to please him, I wanted him to be happy with whatever I did. I know that I can trust him, and that whatever he does to me will be for my own good, and will usually be all kinds of fun."

Horatio gave a little smile. "Despite what you may think, Mac, I wasn't in control of that little scene. He was." Mac blinked, and Horatio's smile deepened. "The submissive controls the scene. They determine how far it will go. Any time he wanted me to stop, all he would have to do is make a sound or a gesture that we've long ago established, and I would stop right then and there."

Speed grinned. "I had the easy job. I just sat there and let him take care of me. He's the one that had to come up with the scene, tie me up, feed me, and order me around." He paused. "Carting the glass of milk across the floor while tied up like that, well, that kinda sucked, but it was still fun."

Mac frowned. "It sucked but it was still fun? You're going to have to explain that one to me."

Speed shrugged. "Physical challenge, getting it across the floor. Intellectual challenge, how to grip it. Mental challenge, being able to pull it off while still remaining submissive, to make H proud. Mac, BDSM isn't all about 1001 Fun Ways To Get Off. It's about really fucking you up, and showing you who you really are and what you can do. What you're willing to do for somebody that you love and trust."

"Speaking of what you're willing to do for me," Horatio started dryly, "would you like to take a shower and put some clothing on, Speed? You're distracting Mac."

"And you?" Speed gave a dirty grin, leaning in for a quick kiss before standing. He wandered into the bathroom without grabbing any clean clothes, and Horatio sighed.

"Another fetish of Speed's is exhibitionism," the redhead said with a long-suffering smile. He took the plate of cookies and the glass of milk and moved to sit next to Mac. "He likes people to watch. And you, if I remember correctly, have a small bit of a voyeuristic streak in you."

Mac made a face and took a cookie for himself. "Not really. I just like being able to see what people are doing to me."

"Mm-hmm." Horatio's tone said he didn't believe him, but they sat quietly and finished off the plate of cookies anyway. They talked a while longer, and for the rest of the night Horatio and Speed respected the personal space of their guest (to an extent). One step at a time…

The next day was largely uneventful. Horatio went to work again, while Speed stayed home with Mac. It surprised the Marine that Speed didn't proposition Mac for sex at all that day. He was roped into helping Speed do some more work on repairing his Ducati, but for the most part Mac simply played with Locard and swam in the ocean and was given a general tour of some of the more interesting places in Miami. So far, it was shaping up to be a nice, relaxing vacation.

It was when Horatio got home that things became interesting. The redhead took a shower, and while he was getting dressed in casual clothes, Speed took his own time to get cleaned up. Like they were getting ready to go somewhere.

Mac remarked on it, and Horatio gave him an intriguing smile. "Pack a change of clothes, Mac. We're leaving as soon as Speed gets out of the shower."

Mac furrowed his brow. "And where are we going?"

Horatio's smile turned dark and mischievous. "To the club, remember?"

"Oh." Mac blinked as a small wave of nervous discomfort hit him. On the one hand, it sounded like an interesting and titillating experience. On the other, he couldn't help but wonder what he was getting himself into. He merely sighed, looked at Horatio, and said, "Okay."

Horatio drove, with Speed in the passenger seat and Mac in the back, talking idly as they drove. Mac tended to avoid the subject of their destination, instead sticking to Horatio's day at work.

That is, until they started driving down the back roads and Speed pointed out the huge mansion in the distance. It wasn't true that this was the only building for miles; it was simply in a rather isolated location, with most of the locals either working at the club or providing services like utilities or supplies, and others refusing to acknowledge its existence. There was a tall and snugly-boarded wooden fence around most of the grounds, which Speed explained to be for people who wanted to do outdoor scenes.

"I'll bet the neighbors _love_ that," Mac observed.

Speed twisted in his seat and grinned at him. "Why do you think it's out in the middle of nowhere? And let's be honest, here, complete basements aren't the most practical things in Miami. At least it's high enough above sea level that there's just a little bit underground."

Mac took a good, long look at the building. "It looks… friendly."

Horatio snorted as they took the slow drive up the small hill. "Only the truly brave man—or woman—with no reputation to lose would willingly walk into an obvious dungeon wearing nothing but bondage gear."

"Don't misunderstand it, Mac," Speed put in. "It is a dungeon, with plenty of dark and scary places where people can do all kinds of dark and scary and insanely fun things to each other."

"It's a friendly dungeon," Horatio finished with a smile.

Mac had no idea how to take that. "A friendly dungeon, where people willingly come to be tortured?"

"Exactly," his hosts said in unison, tossing knowing smiles at each other.

Mac scratched his head, inwardly wondering _Why the hell am I coming here, again?_ "So, tell me some more about the whole scene."

Speed cocked his head. "That's a broad question. Where do you want me to start?"

Mac gave a casual shrug. "How about safety guidelines?"

"Good question," Speed replied. "I'll be honest, Mac, we try to follow SSC but not everybody sticks to that level."

Mac looked blank.

"Sorry. SSC is 'safe, sane, consensual.' We try to stay safe, with the Monitors watching close and sometimes having somebody else Second the top to help out with the scene. We strictly adhere to the safeword. And we treat our wounds immediately, and we keep everything nice and sanitary. Mistress Pamela is… obsessive-compulsive when it comes to hygiene.

"Sane, well, most people really wouldn't think that restraining somebody and flogging them is sane by any stretch. It's more like 'keeping within reasonable human tolerances.' I don't consider it sane, either, but it's fun."

Mac tilted his head. "I'll take your word for it. Now, consensual?"

Horatio answered for the younger man, giving a wry smile. "Come on, Mac, you know that consent means a world of difference in so many of the things people do to each other. What we take it to mean is that if you didn't ask for it, if you didn't give permission for it to happen, then it's not going to happen. If you don't consent to keep going, then the scene will stop." He flicked a glance at his lover. "While Speed may not always ask for my consent before he starts a scene, he always offers a chance to safeword almost immediately into it."

Speed gave a dirty grin. "You know what they say. You can't rape the willing, and you can't torture a masochist."

"Well, of course you can torture a masochist," Horatio shot back.

Mac fell for it. "How?"

Speed and Horatio looked at each other and smiled. "You don't," they said in perfect unison, and began laughing.

"Don't? What… oh." Mac got the joke. "You mean, you torture them by not torturing them."

"Something like that, yeah," Speed muttered as Horatio pulled into the gravel lot in front of the building. There were no official parking spaces here, but the cars were parked neatly nonetheless. Mac carried his tote bag as he followed the other two up to the front door.

Horatio held the door open for his guest. "Will you walk into my parlor?'" the redhead started in a deceptively smooth voice.

Mac eyed him warily. "'Said the spider to the fly,'" he finished.

Horatio chuckled before giving him a pointed look. "When you pass through this door, you leave your public life behind. Your private life _becomes_ your public life." Horatio stared hard at him, making sure that he understood. "You are no longer Mac Taylor, Detective, First Grade. You're just Mac, a newcomer to the club and under the tutelage of myself. I am no longer Lieutenant Horatio Caine. I'm just H, or Master Cain as most call me. That's Cain, without the E."

"And I'm Mr. Deeps," Tim piped up. "Only a couple of people call me by my real name, and those are people that we've known a long time, and we know their names. Until you get to that level of trust with somebody else, the only things anybody knows about you are your preferences and your nickname. Which, by the way, you need to pick."

Mac thought about that as he entered the club, taking in the sights and sounds. It didn't look like a dungeon. Really, it looked like a Victorian mansion that someone had turned into a nightclub. "Fender," he said suddenly.

Speed cocked his head. "Fender? Like a car bumper?"

Mac gave him a look. "Like the guitar. I play a little."

Horatio gave him an even look. "Is that your nickname, Mac?"

The Marine nodded. "Yeah. I mean, it's not like I'm going to be using it very much, am I?"

The Miami couple had to give him that one as they waved hello to the bouncer and stepped to reception, where the same middle-aged woman with the blood-red nails was waiting for them. "Master Cain, Mr. Deeps," she greeted. "You bring a friend with you tonight?"

Horatio nodded. "He needs to register. Club name is Fender, please. Bisexual." Mac threw him a wild look, but Horatio merely kept that calm stare.

"Medical history? Any allergies? Blood type? Oh, and his real name?" Sandy—the woman—poised her hands over her keyboard.

Mac swallowed and gave it all up, and she punched in the keys. "Now, I just need to see some ID and to take your picture, and you're all set," she chirped. Mac shot his hosts a nervous look but complied. She didn't bat an eyelash at the badge in his wallet, but merely looked up at the regular patrons. "I wish I had your job," she cooed in Speed's direction. "You meet so many hot men there."

Speed shot his lover a steamy look. "Yeah, I do."

Mac couldn't remember the last time he'd blushed, but he was definitely about to start now. With unbelievable casualness, Sandy grabbed a tag and stuck it in the engraving machine. When it was done stamping Mac's club name onto it, she took it out, blew off the shavings, and wheeled around to the other side of her little booth to grab a half-pink half-blue rubber ring and fit it around the tag. "You have a collar for him?" she inquired casually as she peeled a barcode sticker off a page and stuck it on the back.

Mac coughed.

Speed looked sideways at him, then turned back to Sandy. "You got a chain we can borrow?"

Sandy dug around in a few drawers before coming up with a small-gauge beaded chain not unlike the one that usually held Mac's dog tags; he didn't wear them much anymore. "Only for you two," she said firmly, giving Horatio a stern look as the redhead took the tag and the chain and fitted them together. "And I need that back by the end of the night. That's one of my temporary chains, remember?"

"No worries," Horatio soothed, attaching the tag to the chain and handing it to Mac. He and Speed then dumped all of their pockets' contents into Sandy's waiting basket, and Mac swallowed and did the same. "Perhaps I should've said 'enter freely and by your own will,'" Horatio said dryly.

Speed snickered. "I'm not calling you 'Count Cain' tonight, H."

Mac stood there for a moment. "Bram Stoker's _Dracula_?"

"Yup." Speed extended his elbow, and Horatio took it. "C'mon, Mac, let's go get changed. Your education awaits."

"Glad Speed had some pants to fit you, Mac," Horatio told the Marine as the trio began changing clothing in the locker rooms.

Mac was a bit hesitant at stripping along with his hosts. If Horatio and Speed had lacked modesty before, they were downright shameless now, especially with Speed taking extra care to help tuck his lover's cock into the redhead's incredibly tight leather pants. Never in a thousand years would Mac have expected to see Horatio Caine in black leather pants, especially pants that tight. It looked like the older man had been _poured_ into them.

Speed noticed Mac's stare. "Don't worry, you'll get a piece of him later."

Mac furrowed his brow, as did Horatio. "I thought I was in charge tonight," the redhead started.

Speed shrugged and dropped his pants and boxers, switching them for his 'clubbing' jeans. "This place, you never know what kind of scene you're going to get roped into."

Mac swallowed and stripped to his shorts, and he could feel the heat creeping up his neck at the sudden and incredibly lewd stares Horatio and Speed were sending toward him—or more specifically, to his groin. "Do you mind?" he growled after a while.

"Not really," Speed said absently. "Nothing we haven't seen before."

Horatio sighed and ran his fingers through Speed's hair, turning the younger man's head to face him. "Let's go easy on him, Speed. It's his first time here." He flicked a glance at Mac. "Hurry up and get dressed, and I'll distract him."

Before Mac could wonder what the redhead meant, Horatio's tongue dove between Speed's lips, and his lover gave a choked moan and slid his arms around Horatio's waist, grabbing a handful of leather-clad skin. Mac blinked, remembered something about Horatio 'distracting' Speed, and quickly changed clothing. Gone were the black jeans and black t-shirt; he was now wearing a white muscle-shirt (he didn't know why he'd packed it, but oh well) and an old pair of Speed's jeans. Speed and Mac were the same height, but Mac's extra muscle made the denim a bit more snug than he was used to. He left his boxers on, to prevent undue friction burns.

A pair of simple sandals and his new neckchain completed the ensemble, and he finished stuffing his clothing into his bag and placed it neatly in the locker. "I'm done," he said absently over his shoulder.

No response.

He turned, to see that Horatio had sank down onto one of the benches with Speed in his lap, and Mac was seeing enough tongue to put Locard (the dog) to shame. Despite both of them being fully clothed, they also seemed desperate to try and break one of the most fundamental laws of physics: 'no two distinct objects can occupy the same space at the same time.' They _weren't_, but they were trying. "Guys?"

The Miami pair broke apart for much-needed oxygen, and Mac sighed. "Didn't the sign say to not have sex in here?"

"We weren't!" Speed protested as he untangled himself from Horatio's legs and stood.

Mac crossed his arms, and Horatio grudgingly stood as well. Speed paused to give his lover a quick swat on his second skin. "You need to loosen up, Mac." He reached into the locker for a large mesh bag and pulled out several loops of metal-accentuated leather (and a few nylon), sorting them out into his and Horatio's collars and wrist-and-ankle cuffs. Horatio took out a leash, but looped it diagonally around his shoulder and waist.

"I'm sorry, I'm not used to walking around in a place full of people who aren't very subtle about trying to get in my pants," Mac said dryly, hiding his sudden surge of lust at the sight of his hosts in collars. Maybe he'd enjoy himself tonight after all.

"Just remember the rule, and they should get the hint," Speed tossed out as they began heading out of the locker room.

Naturally, Mac wondered "What rule?"

Speed shrugged. "Don't sweat the petty things, and don't pet the sweaty things."

Horatio shook his head, but he couldn't keep the smile off his face as they walked down the hallway. "You have a filthy mind."

Speed grinned and slung an arm over the redhead's shoulder. "Only the best for you, H."

Mac rolled his eyes. "Have I ever told you that you two are the Devil made flesh?"

"You may have mentioned it once or twice," Horatio replied idly, wrapping an arm around Speed's waist. The trio emerged at the edge of the dance floor, where already a large crowd was bumping and grinding away despite the fact that the sun hadn't even set yet. They moved along the outer edges of the dance crowd until Mac realized they were headed for a set of double-doors over which was posted a large metal sign with the universal circle-and-arrow symbol for 'male.' Next to it was an equally large circle-and-cross 'female' symbol, with a red X painted over it.

Speed grinned at Mac's look. "Mistress Pamela was kind enough to give us homosexuals our own separate areas. I don't have to look at a single naked woman if I stay in this section."

"Congratulations," Horatio grumped, "but not all of us hate the sight of a naked female, Speed."

Speed patted his lover on the head. "You know what they say, H, admitting you have a problem is the first step to recovery."

Mac snorted and moved ahead of them to open the door, feeling a bit self-conscious at the sudden interested looks that random men were sending him—as well as more than a few disappointed looks from the women. Apparently he was too far away for them to see what color(s) graced his tag ring.

"We don't get down here too often," Speed said idly as they passed into XY-dominated territory. "There's just not enough room for all the elitist, same-sex snobs to have their own separate dungeons, so if we wanna get our asses shredded, it has to be in a one-rack-fits-all area. Unfortunately that means that I have to see women naked every now and then, but I think the pros outweigh the cons. But down here, in the men-only section…" he paused for effect, and grinned, "It can get pretty damn kinky."

"Speaking of which," Horatio murmured as they ducked into the first room on the left of the hallway, "get naked."

Mac blinked.

Speed's grin was downright lascivious. "We dressed up to walk through the dance floor, Mac. Down here, everybody's got the same parts and since we kinda come here for that sort of harassment…" He let his voice trail off as Mac saw yet another bank of lockers, except that these were quite a bit smaller. Some had locks secured on them, and others had opened locks with keys in them. Speed took one of the locks off and opened the door, and clipped the key to one of his wrist cuffs. He then promptly stripped himself of his vest and patched jeans.

Horatio threw a look at Mac as the Miami pair stood there wearing nothing but body hair, collars, cuffs, and sandals. "Come on, Mac. Believe me, you have absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about."

Mac was hesitant until Speed grabbed the leash and snapped it onto Horatio's collar. The redhead blinked, gave Speed a long look, and ducked his head. The younger man then grinned at Mac. "Get naked, and I'll let you hold his leash."

Mac's jaw went slack, and he made up his mind. He could put up with being surrounded by other naked men for a while, if his prize was Horatio Caine on a leash. The redhead didn't even look at Mac as the Marine was finally naked, but Speed's gaze swept up and down him as though considering putting a collar on Mac's muscular neck.

Mac gave a wry smile and held out his hand. "You promised."

Speed grinned and suddenly reached out for the back of Horatio's neck, and the redhead closed his eyes and dropped (carefully) to his knees. "Make no mistake, Mac," Speed said casually as he laid a possessive hand on Horatio's copper hair, "H belongs to me. Later on I might let you order him around for a while, but right now I've got something planned for him."

"May I speak?" Horatio asked quietly, his eyes to the floor.

Speed looked down at him. "Sure."

Horatio dared a glance up at his lover. "Are we still going to give you a strapping?"

"Yeah, sure, you betcha," Speed said a little too quickly. "Now, Pet, you may explain things to Mac if he asks, and you can walk when we do and stand when we stop, but I still want your eyes down and your mouth shut. Got it?"

"Yes, sir," Horatio murmured, and Speed handed the leash over to Mac.

The Marine stared down at his new acquisition, feeling a strange thrill of lust shoot through him at the sight of the redhead on his knees, a collar around his neck and his leash on Mac's wrist.

"Cool, huh?" Speed's voice came, and Mac glanced up to see Speed looking slyly at him. "You oughta do this to Danny. I bet he'd look all kinds of sexy in a collar."

Mac's gaze dropped back to Horatio, but the Miami pair was sure that Mac was picturing Danny in Horatio's place. "Yeah, I should," he murmured after a while. Then he suddenly seemed to remember that he'd _dumped_ Danny a week ago, shook his head as if to clear it, and looked up. "So, now what?"

Speed turned and beckoned, and Horatio got to his feet and stood behind Mac and to one side. The youngest man began walking. "I'm going to find a backup for the scene, first. It's a little risky."

Mac furrowed his brows and tossed a glance over his shoulder at Horatio. "Strapping is just hitting somebody with a leather belt, right? How risky could it be?"

Horatio didn't answer, which made Mac frown until Speed jumped in. "That's a rhetorical question around here. Just about anything can be dangerous if it's done the wrong way."

"Isn't that the truth," a male voice put in, and the trio turned to see a mostly-blond man in his early thirties, with brown eyes and a slim build, and a light dusting of hair on his chest that condensed into a thin stripe down his belly to his limp cock. There was a white band around his bicep with a red cross on it, and a matching messenger-style tote bag hung at his left hip from his right shoulder. He had on a loose-fitting gray collar with a tag that said Travis and indicated that he was bisexual. A second, large orange tag hung behind the first.

Speed eyed the newcomer. "Hey, Travis, just the man I wanted to see."

Travis put his hands on his hips. "Why does it make me nervous every time you say that?" Speed didn't answer, and Travis sighed. "I heard you put in a request that you'd need a member of the medical staff to Second you tonight."

Speed nodded, and leaned in to whisper something in the Medical man's ear. Travis frowned, and sighed. "What is it with you and potentially dangerous scenes?"

Speed crossed his arms. "What is it with you and trying to dictate everybody else's comfort zones?"

Horatio coughed and shifted his weight to stand more comfortably. Speed glanced back at him, dropped his shoulders, and gave a grudging sigh. "Sorry. Last time I did something like this, I was kinda occupied and I didn't have much of a chance to pay attention to all the safety guidelines."

Mac was bewildered. "I thought you said you'd done this several times. Is a strapping really that dangerous?"

Travis eyed the Marine for a moment, then his gaze shifted to Horatio, where the redhead gave a single nod as if to tell him that everything was under control and don't worry about surprising big, muscular Fender. The blond man looked back at Speed. "How many?"

"Six or seven, at least," Speed answered vaguely.

"Has he done something like this before? Are you sure he can handle that many?" Travis' voice became dry and clinical, much like a doctor asking where it hurt.

"He can handle it," Speed assured him. "I know how to read him."

Travis thought hard, putting his hands on his hips. "I don't know if I can, Deeps. You know I hate scenes like this."

Speed wouldn't hear it. "Come on, you still owe me from skipping out on that one orgy, the night that Reno came in!"

Horatio leaned over to whisper quickly to Mac that Reno was another old friend of theirs that had moved out to Vegas.

Travis' eyes grew wide. "Deeps, that was almost a year ago!"

"Ten months, to be a bit more precise."

Travis sputtered and rubbed the back of his neck. "I… I had plans that night," he offered lamely.

Travis was fishing, and Speed knew it. You can't hide from a criminalist. "Come on, Travis, at least shoulder me. Play medical, for Cain's well-being. You've done this kind of scene before and I want your expertise."

The blond man thought for a long moment, put his hands on his hips, sighed, and nodded. "All right, all right, I'll do it."

Horatio, however, looked rather confused as he dared to look Speed in the eye, playing along. "What do you mean, for _my_ well-being? I thought we were going to strap you." His brows furrowed suspiciously at his lover. "What kind of scene have you set up, Deeps?"

The kind of chuckle he got as a reply was _not_ reassuring.

"Cain," Speed began casually, "It occurred to me, on Fender's last visit, how much you enjoyed the little scene that I set up for you. I wondered how I'd be able to top it." He gave his lover a dark look, grinning wolfishly, and held out his hand for Mac to give him the leash back. "I think I came up with something."

Horatio suddenly felt his arms grabbed from behind, by two sets of _very_ large hands. Before he could protest, someone else came up behind him and blindfolded him. Stripped of his sight, his handlers began bodily moving him in the direction of Speed's voice, and he realized from the sounds that Speed had begun walking again. The leash was far too slack, and Horatio figured that Speed had dropped it completely.

He had also begun talking again. "If you thought that little scene was intense, Pet, then you're about to receive the fucking of a lifetime."

Sound changed, and Horatio felt that he was being ushered into a larger room, full of quiet people. How many, he had no idea. He heard Mac grunt a question at Speed, and while he couldn't distinguish his lover's words, the tone said that Speed was reassuring Mac that everything was on the up-and-up.

"Felix? Jaelix? If you would, please?" Speed asked cordially, and Horatio's handlers—now identified, which reassured him slightly—walked him a bit farther.

One let go of him, and the other turned him slightly, then the other hands reappeared on his arm. One hand moved to his back, not-so-gently urging him to bend over until he felt his stomach come to rest against something with some sort of padding. "Hold still," one of them—Jaelix, he reasoned by the voice—said gruffly, and he felt his arms become crossed behind his back, folded across each other levelly. "Comfortable?" Jaelix whispered. Horatio nodded, and he felt a metal clip being attached to one of his wrist cuffs. His arms were lifted enough for what felt like a long leather belt to wrap around both forearms in a loose spiral that was clipped to his other wrist. His arms were comfortable enough; he just couldn't move them.

Since Jaelix was at his wrists, that meant that Felix was working on his legs. They were nudged far apart, more clips becoming attached to his ankle cuffs. When he was secured like that, they began taking more measures for his comfort; what felt like kneepad slings and something like stirrups were slid into place, and also clipped to the legs of his little bench-like perch, so that he could keep his legs bent somewhat comfortably without straining his calves to keep his feet flat on the floor.

The padding on the table only covered his upper belly and most of his ribcage, he realized. Another strap was laid across his lower back, tying him to his bench. Two more straps were crossed in an X across his back, over his shoulders and under his arms, to keep his chest pinned. His leash was removed, to be replaced by a shorter strap that secured his neck to the bench. As a last resort—and he almost protested, as if he could—some sort of strap was slid over his head to rest at the base of his skull, and a rubber-coated steel bit was nudged into his mouth.

"Stretch your neck out," Felix's voice ordered, and Horatio did that, to find that at the edge of the padding was a small depression that fit his chin comfortably. _So why the bit_, he wondered. At this angle, he was perfectly positioned to suck on somebody.

"Looks good, guys," he heard Speed say. "What'd you call this thing again, Artie?"

_Artie is here?_ Horatio thought wonderingly. The owner of Artie's Adult Playground, and an acquaintance of Horatio's for many years. Of course the man would be here, the lecher, and the thought made him smile inwardly. Artie was something of an exception to the club: he wasn't a patron here for sex. He was more like a traveling salesman, and occasionally he brought "samples" of his "products" for an "appreciative audience" to try and to ask questions about. More than once, this practice had lead Mistress Pamela to purchase something from Artie to be used in the club. They also referred clients to each other, making it the perfect business relationship.

"I haven't thought of anything more glamorous than a 'man's fuck-bench,'" Artie confessed. "Although from the height, maybe it should be a fuck-table."

Speed laughed, and Horatio felt something small and hard and cube-ish pressed into the palm of his right hand, then his fingers were curled carefully around it and his thumb was pressed into an oval-shaped depression on one side. "Pet, this is gonna be your safeword," Speed explained. "It's a dog-training clicker. Go ahead, give it a few."

Horatio squeezed his thumb down, and a loud, tinny _click-clack!_ echoed in the rather large chamber. He took his top's advice and clicked it a few times, settling it more comfortably into his hand. The sound reminded him of the 'tamper-evident cap' on a jar of pasta sauce; once the seal was broken and pressure was equalized inside the jar, pressing on the raised circle near the middle of the metal lid resulted in a loud, metallic double-pop.

Speed went on. "Okay, now here's the system: if somebody asks you something, one click is a positive response. Two clicks is negative, three means you want something, and four means 'Stop right the fuck now.' Got it?"

Click.

"Sure?"

Click.

"Want to stop?"

Click. Click.

"Good boy." Horatio felt a hand, probably Speed's, run affectionate fingers through his hair as his lover raised his voice. "Friends and fellow ass-rammers, I'd like to thank you for coming to this little scene. I'm Mr. Deeps, and this handsome fuck-toy is Cain. The big, nervous guy next to me is Fender. Fender is a friend of ours from New York that's been wondering why we do what we do, so we're going to show him.

"What we're gonna do here is simple: we're gonna fuck Cain's brains out. I want you to get yourselves hard, and then we'll line you up in order of dick size. No offense to anybody, but the smaller guys go first. We wanna save _some_ friction, after all." A few chuckles washed over Horatio's straining ears and he had to wonder, not for the first time or even the tenth, just how many men were in the room.

Speed continued. "Condoms are a _must_, so anybody that doesn't like 'em or can't wear 'em, I'm sorry we wasted your time. Feel free to watch, though. Or fuck each other, it's all good. As far as Cain goes, other things you need to know are: no biting, no pinching, no scratching, no tickling, no playing with the hair or nipples, no spanking, and no fondling; we're saving that for the end. He's a living, breathing glory hole. Basically, you lube up, you fuck him until you fill your rubber, and you pull out and let the next guy have a go. Travis, your ball."

"My pleasure," Travis replied. "I'm acting as second to Mr. Deeps tonight. I'm also playing medical, so anybody caught trying to go bareback or not using enough lube is gonna get a nice hello from Felix and Jaelix. And another thing: I'm going to closely examine him from time to time, so if I tell you to stop what you're doing, you'd better damn well stop."

Travis sounded like he was finished, but then Horatio heard some murmuring from Speed.

The blond man raised his voice again. "Oh, and Deeps has informed me that Cain is one of the lucky bastards that can come from behind, so everybody may not get a turn. We don't want him cumming blood, guys."

Speed's hand disappeared from Horatio's hair, and the sound of one man clapping twice made him jump a little. "Jeez, Cain, we haven't even started yet," Speed said in an amused over-loud tone, noticing his reaction, before addressing the group again. "All right, guys, let's see what you're packing."

Mac stood by, bewildered. "What the hell is going on… Deeps?"

Speed grinned at him. "Weren't you listening?"

"Well, I was, but…" It was just shocking to Mac, that so much planning and consideration and even concern had been put into what was basically shaping up to be an orgy. And everyone was acting like it was just par for the course. So you want to have your lover grabbed, blindfolded, tied to a table, and fucked by an entire room full of men? No problem!

It was _insane_. It was borderline debauchery. And heaven help him, but Mac liked it. The calm demeanor and all the 'safety guidelines' reassured him somewhat.

Speed grinned. "Since H is my own personal fucktoy, I'm going to start the festivities myself. No offense, but you're going last, okay?"

Mac took a quick look around the room, where roughly ten men were standing around stroking themselves and kissing and petting each other. "I guess I am the thickest one in the room," he admitted after a while.

"Yeah? No shit," Speed grinned. He walked behind the bound Horatio, where a small table sat off to one side. On it sat several bottles of lube, a roll of paper towels, and a gallon-sized ice cream bucket full of more types of condoms than Mac knew existed. Underneath the table was a garbage can. Speed was humming casually to himself as he selected a condom and set it to one side, then picked up a bottle of lube. He applied some to both hands; one hand went to his own cock, while the other hand lifted to Horatio's waiting ass, gently teasing the clenched pucker.

Mac felt himself growing hard as he watched Speed prepare himself and his lover, and another quick glance around the room said that he wasn't the only one that felt that way. Some of the men had split off into couples, stroking and kissing each other. Others just watched and stroked themselves. One couple was doing something interesting: the top was a man that looked barely younger than Horatio, with a head of steel-gray hair. The bottom was a younger Hispanic man, and the bottom was on his knees with the top's cock in his hand and the top's balls in his mouth.

"Ready, Pet?" Speed's voice came, and Mac turned to see the younger man with his dick positioned at Horatio's glistening entrance, and his hands grasping handles built into the 'table.' Speed closed his eyes and pressed in slowly, ever so slowly, and Horatio gave a soft growl as his lover buried himself. "God, you're tight," Speed hissed, pulling back out and pushing back in, finding a slow and easy pace.

More motion caught Mac's eye: past Horatio on the other side of the room, the older top had sat down on a couch and the Hispanic man was now riding him, and beside them on the couch a younger man stroked himself with one hand and reached over to stroke the Hispanic man with his other.

Just like that. No breaking the ice or even exchanging names; apparently 'evidence in plain sight' was fair game here, too. Back in the center of attention, Speed was now pulling hard on the handles, thrusting into his lover, his head thrown back, eyes closed.

Mac found himself walking right up to Speed, wanting a first-person view of the proceedings. Speed leaned over to whisper in Mac's ear. "Remember when you said you wanted to see him cum from behind?" Mac nodded. "Look under the table."

Mac gave him an odd look but knelt, and beheld a strange sight: Horatio's cock was hard as stone and leaking wildly, dribbling into a bucket on the floor that, Mac realized, had been placed there exactly for this purpose. There was far too much fluid for it to be precome, but that _had_ to be what it was because it was too pale and thin to be full-blown come… Mac stood, his eyes wide.

"I'm _just_ hitting his prostate every time," Speed said softly. "You believe me now?"

Mac scratched the back of his neck. "I don't know…"

Speed gave him a challenging smirk and began fucking the redhead harder, changing his angle so that Horatio was groaning with every stroke, and Mac could see the older man's muscles in his back begin to tense. "Look down again," Speed grunted as he slapped against his lover's ass.

Mac knelt again, and as he watched, Horatio twitched and shuddered and gave a long rolling growl, and the volume of his come increased noticeably, as did its coloration. Horatio _was_ coming from behind!

"Oh, fuck, that's good," Speed moaned, bringing Mac topside again, just in time to see Speed's head lolled back, eyes closed as he thrust into his lover one last time, and his face twitched as he came with a watery groan. He stayed in his pet redhead for a few moments, running caressing hands on his back and even bending down to place a kiss on the back of his neck, and then Speed pulled out.

Travis noticed Mac's look. "It's actually not all that rare, really. It just has to be done right."

Mac furrowed his brow. "What do you mean?"

Travis indicated Horatio. "You can get an excess of precome just from milking a man's prostate. Not every man can orgasm from it, true, but Cain seems to be wired where it's easier for him to experience an anal-centric orgasm than most people."

Speed peeled off his condom and tossed it in the garbage, then rubbed his hands together. "Next!" he called.

Almost instantly a line started to form, but the men were all polite and patient. Nobody squabbled or tried to cut in front. If it wasn't their turn, they would more often than not start playing with the person in front of or behind them.

Next in line was a tall man with a long, thin dick. He prepared himself, checked Horatio's entrance with a finger to make sure all was ready, and slid in without a second's pause. He immediately grasped the handles and started pounding away, and Horatio groaned with every thrust, his hands clenching and unclenching behind his back.

This didn't sit right with Mac, and it took him a moment to realize why. He could see utterly no similarity between his little scene with Speed yesterday morning and what Horatio was going through now. They were basically tying him down and gang-raping him! Horatio's words earlier about 'consent' came back to him and he stared hard at the redhead's hand, which gripped the clicker loosely but made no effort to safeword out of it. Horatio _wanted_ this?

A different sound came from Horatio's throat, and Mac's face tightened as he noticed a thin trickle of moisture begin to make its way down the redhead's cheek. _Just use the damn clicker!_ Mac shouted silently, but the abuse continued. Finally he'd had enough, and he marched back to Speed. "Stop this," he growled.

Speed gave him an odd look. "Why?"

"Because you're tying him down and gang-raping him, that's why! And he's crying!" Mac's fists were clenched, the muscles in his neck standing out.

To his utter disbelief, Speed smiled. "He's crying already? Good." Mac's jaw dropped in furious shock, and Speed noticed. "It's a good thing. That means he's in the right headspace."

"The right…? You mean, like you were last night?"

"Exactly," Speed explained. "Right now, he's at the point where nothing matters but making me happy. And despite everything that's happening to him right now, the only thing he's thinking about is me enjoying myself while I watch him go through that."

"Lemme try, Deeps." Another man stepped up, the young man that Mac had seen stroking the Hispanic man on the couch earlier, the tag on his braided-hemp-and-beads necklace identifying him as Trance, bisexual. He had a second necklace on, a single strip of what looked like red ribbon with a different tag on it: white with a blue cross. He was in his mid-twenties, rather compact—stocky would be a better term, but powerfully built despite the beginnings of a definite beer gut—with a dick that was slightly longer than average, but also slightly thicker and with a gentle upward curve. At the moment, Trance's erection hovered at around half-hardness, and Mac found himself staring before a hand flew up into his face, fingers snapping. "Up here, big guy."

Mac blinked, his eyes locking onto a pair of amused green ones. "Hey, you're new to the scene. No big deal," Trance drawled and shrugged, his accent screaming 'Kentucky.' "But anyway, what Deeps was trying to say is that Cain knows that Deeps went through a lot of trouble to set this up, and he wants Cain to enjoy it. He also knows that this is exactly where and how Deeps wants him at the moment, so that's where he's happy to be."

Speed nodded. "It's like giving a kid a playroom and a new toy. The kid plays with it because it's new and it's neat, and it's fun, and at the same time they know that you're standing in the doorway watching 'em so they try to have as much fun as possible."

Trance shot him a sideways look. "When was the last time you were around kids?"

Speed rubbed the back of his neck. "Not in recent memory, why?"

"Nothing. It's just that the way you described it sounds pretty close, but I have yet to meet a kid that will have extra fun with a toy just to put on a show, because they know you're watching them to make sure they like it." Trance scratched his short brown hair and grinned again. "Maybe a really, really conscientious kid, but only if you told them beforehand that the gift from somebody is just going to suck and they'd better put on a damn good show anyway."

Speed snorted. "I'm no good with kids. And that was a really shitty explanation, Fender; I'll get Cain to explain it to you later. Just trust me; what's going through Cain's head right now is the exact same thing as what was going through my head last night. It's trust."

Mac gave an accepting nod and (temporarily) gave up trying to understand it. It was all so surreal to him, having casual conversation about children and presents while they were all stark naked, casually watching a good friend of his getting strapped down and pounded in the ass by a conga line of eager men. Instead, he asked, "How is this anything like what you two were doing last night?"

Speed gave a wry grin. "H likes to get fucked, remember? He may not be as big on bondage as I am, but trust me, he's having a blast." He saw Mac's look. "He has the clicker, Mac. He has the safeword. All he has to do is use it, and we'll stop. But until he does, we're going to give him the ride of his life."

"You're good at that," another voice said dryly, and Mac realized that the speaker was Horatio's latest top, a short, wiry man in his mid-forties with a head of steel-gray hair and eyes like algae at the bottom of a frozen pond. Dark, frosty green, much like the same color as his collar. Mac couldn't read his name, but his tag ring was blue. The man grinned at Speed, but in Mac's eyes it seemed like there was more to the look than just the moment. "How you been, Deeps?"

Speed came around Mac to wrap his arms around the man in a crushing hug from behind. "Hoppy! Where in the hell have you been?"

"Around," Hoppy grinned, rearing his head back and pressing a kiss to the corner of Speed's jaw.

Speed moved around to take a good look at the man. "I was almost afraid that you weren't going to make it. We need ya for the finale, after all."

"I know you need me," Hoppy said, giving Speed that special look again. "Travis is going to hate you, though."

"Travis hates everybody," Speed grumbled, tossing a glance at the Medical man who was in deep discussion with another patron and apparently ignoring the whole scene. "Fucking cocktease. He's got a sweet face and a nice ass, but he's only orally bi."

Mac walked closer. "Care to explain that one?"

Hoppy snorted. "He's a freak for giving head, but he only fucks girls. Says he doesn't like messing with prostates unless he's giving a guy a checkup. He's a proctologist, and he runs his practice exclusively within Deviate."

Speed shrugged. "Takes all kinds."

"He could use a good, hard fucking," Hoppy muttered, grasping Horatio's hips and pounding harder into the redhead. "Like you, Cain. You've been needing this for a while, haven't you?"

Click.

"Thought so," Hoppy continued, changing his angle slightly to ignore Horatio's prostate. "You enjoying yourself, Cain? You want to come on my dick?"

Click.

Speed glanced over at Trance. "Hey, aren't you going to get in line?"

"Nah. I'd love to, but I'm allergic to Latex and I don't see any polyurethane condoms in Artie's stash." Trance looked understandably disappointed, but he also seemed to have accepted it. Just one more fact of life around here.

"So that's what your other necklace means?" Mac asked, pointing to the red ribbon and the blue cross on the white tag.

Trance nodded. "Yup. It's what passes for a medical alert bracelet around here." He grabbed the tag and flipped it over so Mac could see the word 'Latex allergy' stamped on it.

Speed got an idea. "Hey, Trance, how about you let Cain suck you off? I hate to leave you high and dry just because we don't have the right condom here for you."

Trance brightened, then just as immediately drooped. "I don't know, Deeps. Whenever I'm with guys, I usually bottom, you know? And my legs shake a lot, so…"

Speed shrugged. "Fender can hold you up." He tossed a look at Mac. "What do you say? Would you mind making sure that he doesn't fall over while he's getting his dick sucked?"

Mac blinked, made a noncommittal noise, and suddenly he was standing right behind Trance with his heavily muscled arms around the younger man's slightly pauchy stomach while Speed stroked Trance to full hardness. Speed was kneeling, and he leaned over into Horatio's ear. "How about it, Cain? Want to put Trance's dick in your mouth so he won't miss the fun?"

Click.

"Good boy," Speed murmured, running a finger underneath the strap behind Horatio's head and sliding the bit out of his mouth. He captured a single drop of precum from the tip of Trance's cock and held it under Horatio's nose, where the redhead promptly stuck his tongue out, searching for it. "Oh, you want it, don't you?"

"Yes, sir," Horatio whispered as he finally found Speed's finger and sucked on it.

Speed drew his finger back. "Did I say you could talk?"

Horatio started to answer, paused, and shook his head. Behind him Hoppy gave a sensuous grin, having slowed his pace considerably. He was taking his time, making it last, and also making it a little easier for Horatio to keep his head steady in spite of the constant pounding in his backside.

"That's better. Trance, you mind gagging him anyway?" Speed leaned back to give the younger man room.

"I can do that," Trance agreed, stepping forward and holding his cock right in front of Horatio's mouth. The bound man smelled it, stretching neck and lips out, begging silently. "Oh, fine, here ya go," Trance said cheerfully as he twitched his hips forward. Horatio wrapped his mouth around the curved dick and sucked _hard_, prompting Trance forward another few inches. "Holy shit, Cain," he moaned, "You could suck the nails out of a wall!"

"That's my Cain," Speed said with obvious pride. Behind Trance, Mac could feel the younger man grinding against him as he gently fucked Horatio's mouth, and it was getting him hard. Harder.

Suddenly one of Trance's hands slipped behind him, wrapping around Mac's beer-can cock, and he groaned again. "Jesus fuck, Fender, you're huge!"

Mac didn't know what to say, other than "Thanks." Trance let go of his dick and began grinding against him again while Horatio sucked on the younger man's length, and soon enough Trance leaned fully back against Mac, his legs shaking, and Trance let out a loud groan as he came, Horatio swallowing every drop and milking the length for more.

Trance's legs quaked, and Mac gently pulled him back. Horatio released the dick with a loud popping noise, and for a moment looked disconsolate until Hoppy took his cue to suddenly begin pounding into the pale backside again. Horatio grunted at the abrupt change of pace, his entire body quivering slightly as Hoppy brought him to a second orgasm. Hoppy hissed at the contractions that began gripping and milking his cock, and it wasn't long before he joined the redhead in bliss.

Trance leaned against Mac as the Marine walked him back over to the couch. There was a look of weary thanks on the young man's eyes, and Mac smiled and nodded as he made his way back to Speed. Back at the table, Hoppy blew out a heavy breath and pulled out, giving Horatio an affectionate slap on the rump before putting his condom in the garbage. "Thanks, Cain. That was tight."

Horatio grunted acknowledgement of the comment, then Hoppy walked over to Speed. "Deeps, I'm gonna go hit the head. Be back in a little bit." Speed nodded, and Mac took the opportunity to lean in closer to him.

"What was that about?" Mac murmured in Speed's ear as Hoppy went to use the bathroom.

Speed cocked his head. "What do you mean?"

"You were flirting with him, _while_ he was screwing Horatio."

Speed gave a little grin. "Me and Hoppy go way back, and H knows it. We've had a few threesomes, and I _still_ get hard just thinking about 'em."

Mac blinked. He just couldn't understand it. "So, you're flirting with an old flame while _he's_ screwing your current flame. And that has no emotional bearing on your relationship with Horatio."

"It's just _sex_, Mac. No emotional involvement here. You don't really come to an orgy to find a soul mate, you know?"

It irritated Mac, for reasons that he couldn't quite understand. Speed shouldn't still be _that_ emotionally attached to Hoppy, not if he really loved Horatio. "You can only love one person at a time, Tim," Mac insisted.

"Speak for yourself," Speed growled and gave him the finger, and Mac sighed and gave him the benefit of the doubt. He glanced over at Horatio and saw that yet another man had prepped himself and was sliding into the bound man, bucking into him with short, quick thrusts. "Just take the time to enjoy yourself, Mac, at least for tonight."

Mac gave him a level look. "Can I leave now?"

Speed blinked. "Yeah, of course you can. You can always leave Deviate, any time you want. That's the founding principle of this place, that nothing will happen to you unless you want it to." He gave Mac a pleading look. "Please just stick around until the end of tonight, and we'll never ask you to come here again."

Mac watched as the new man fucked Horatio to his own completion, and he'd barely slid out when yet another took his place. All around the room, men were touching and kissing and fucking each other, and there was a threesome going on over on the couch. The air was heavy with the scents of sex and sweat, as well as the continuous litany of manly grunts and groans. Mac took the time to study the gathering, and was surprised to notice that there were very few people younger than thirty. They were mostly around Mac's age, and came in several different body types and fitness levels, and it added a strange and inexplicable air of realism to the whole thing. A shout closer to him grabbed his attention, and Mac turned in time to see the fifth man come inside Horatio.

Another man started to walk forward when Travis held up a hand. He snapped on some Latex gloves and knelt behind the trembling redhead, poking here and prodding there, and then he stood. "I think he can bottom for one, maybe two more people and that's it."

Speed nodded and turned to Mac. "Fender, looks like you're up. You wanna do Cain?"

After Trance's little impromptu bump-and-grind, Mac was more than ready to find some relief, and he nodded. For some reason, his erection wasn't going down despite not having had any stimulation on it for a while. He supposed that the atmosphere and all the ambient pheromones were getting to him.

He sheathed himself in Latex and slicked up, and positioned himself behind Horatio. For some reason, he felt the need to warn the redhead, and to let him know who was next in line. His cock nudging Horatio's entrance, Mac leaned over the body. "It's me," he growled softly, knowing that Horatio would know his voice, and he felt the redhead tremble underneath him. "Ready?"

Horatio nodded and Mac began sliding slowly in, surprised—although he knew he probably shouldn't be—that the older man needed absolutely no stretching. In no time at all he struck a quick and easy pace, stroking himself into that wonderful heat. He didn't feel like coming hard and fast, like the others had that night. He felt the urge to make it last, to be about enjoying the body of another rather than just getting his rocks off.

Speed was suddenly behind his shoulder, whispering in his ear. "Wanna make him come?"

Mac nodded, panting slightly as he slid in and out of the exquisite warmth. Speed spoke again. "Change your angle so you're _just_ sliding against his prostate. He's probably pretty damn sensitive by now, so take it easy."

Mac nodded again and did as suggested, and he felt Horatio's trembling become more pronounced. Speed hadn't bothered to put the bit back in, and Horatio was finally groaning and panting with Mac's thrusts. Mac could feel his own orgasm building as Horatio vibrated beneath him, and suddenly Horatio cried out and clamped down on Mac, his insides squeezing and milking Mac as he came, and it was too much for Mac to take and he snarled and pushed deep inside, his legs quivering as he joined the redhead in ecstasy.

Mac pulled out slowly, running an appreciative hand up and down Horatio's back, and he glanced over to see Speed talking to Hoppy. Hoppy was fooling with something that Mac couldn't see, and he nodded to Speed as the younger man stepped back to his favorite redhead and bent down close to him. "Cain? You remember the signals?"

Click.

"You want to stop?"

Click. Click.

"Think you could go for one more fuck?"

Click.

"Good. Because after all you've been through so far, you ain't felt _nothing_ yet."

Mac watched as the slim, prematurely gray man pulled up a stool behind Horatio's gaping rear. His right hand and, hell, his entire right arm was covered in thick black rubber. A calving glove, Mac realized, for the aid of safely delivering livestock. His left was covered in an ordinary Latex glove, and suddenly Mac had an idea of what was about to happen.

Speed stepped back over to Hoppy as the gray-haired man began coating Horatio's wide-open crevice with lube. More of the slick stuff went on Hoppy's glove. Honestly, Mac had never seen so much lubricant being used at one time as Speed helped Hoppy get prepared. The older man placed two fingertips at Horatio's entrance, plunging in delicately, pulling out again, adding a third finger. "Jesus, Cain, you're loose," he grumbled. He worked his fingers slowly, stretching and lubricating.

Mac found that he couldn't do anything but stand behind Hoppy's shoulder and stare. "You're not…"

"Gonna fist him? Sure I am. What do you think the glove's for?" Hoppy didn't look at him as he spoke, but simply concentrated on Horatio as three fingers turned into four, preparing the way.

"How the hell…"

"With patience, steady hands, and a metric fuckload of lube." Hoppy's left hand had joined his right, using three fingers from each hand, stretching top and bottom as well as the sides. "Here, check this out." Hoppy went back to just his right hand, positioning his fingers so that the pinky and forefinger were under the middle and ring like a spear, with his thumb tucked underneath. "Need you to relax for me, Cain," Hoppy announced.

Speed took the cue and knelt next to Horatio's head, whispering things in his ear and gently stroking the back of his neck, and Mac could see the muscles on the redhead's back begin to relax. Hoppy nodded, took a careful breath, and began pushing slowly in. "Hey, Fender, squirt a little more lube, would you?"

Mac found the bottle and aimed a large glob at the back of Hoppy's hand, which he smeared all over his glove and then began using a gentle corkscrew motion in addition to his pushing. Horatio was still as relaxed as possible but he had started trembling. Mac could see the sphincter keeping out Hoppy's knuckles, and the whole world seemed to hold its breath.

And suddenly, Horatio jumped and gave a loud grunt, and Hoppy's hand slid slowly in to the wrist. "I'm not going any deeper than that," Hoppy murmured in Mac's direction. "His intestinal tract's really not built for it, and I'd like to avoid tearing something or cramping his heart and lungs."

"Sensible," Mac muttered. He watched Hoppy's wrist rotate as he turned his hand palm-up, and the tendons flexed as though he'd closed his fingers, and Horatio shook violently and moaned.

"Some people," Hoppy continued calmly, "might take a hit of amyl nitrate to help the muscles relax, but Mistress Pamela frowns on any and all drug use. To her, if you if you need drugs to be happy with wherever you are, then obviously you need to be somewhere else."

Mac couldn't help but agree. "Honestly, I expected there to be a little more action," he admitted, nodding at Hoppy's fist. "I thought you were going to, well…"

"Fist-fuck?" Hoppy snorted and kept rotating his hand and moving his fingers, and Horatio started shaking harder. "That's pretty damn dangerous, really. If I go in just a little farther, I can overload his system. It can actually send him into shock."

Mac blinked, and Hoppy glanced up at Speed. "I think he's ready."

Speed looked his lover over, nodded to Hoppy, and then walked over to Mac. "Fender, I'll let you do the honors," Speed whispered, although why he would speak so quietly was something of a mystery to Mac; it was hard to hear much over the sound of Horatio's incoherent howls. "I want to be up here, by him. Just slide under the table and take the place of the bucket, but don't touch his dick until you're sure you're in the right spot. He'll probably shoot off as soon as you touch him."

Mac did as he was told, and was amused to find a small mat lying under the table-like structure to protect his naked flesh from the cold tile floor. "Damn, these people think of everything," he muttered to himself as he moved the bucket and slid quickly into position, his head to Horatio's ass and his legs sticking out under the redhead's chin. Opening his mouth quickly, he immediately began catching some runoff from Horatio's wildly leaking cock. He braced one palm on the floor beneath him and sat high enough up to grasp the redhead's cock, intending to suck him in almost a 69 position.

He never got close. The moment his hand brushed the swelled, nearly purple organ, Horatio gave one last scream and came, his cock twitching and shooting a surprisingly large amount of seed that nearly struck Mac's eyes. He closed them and leaned up quickly, craning his neck and grasping his friend's cock and sucking him halfway down, and he could hear Horatio's knees thumping the table, the man howling like a deep-voiced banshee as his cock splattered Mac's throat with cum.

After several seconds, Horatio stopped screaming and Mac felt a hand on his shoulder. Releasing the redhead's dick, Mac turned to see Travis squatting next to the table, motioning for him to slide out. "That's enough… Fender, was it? I don't think his prostate can take much more activity this evening."

"Yes, Doctor." Mac lifted an eyebrow in amusement as he slid out from under the table. Behind Horatio, he saw that Hoppy had already pulled his arm out and was flexing his hand as though it had been nearly crushed.

At the head of the table, Speed was leaning down until he had his lips in his lover's ear, stroking his hair and whispering things of love and praise to him. Seeing Mac standing up, he gave a little grin and wiped his mouth pointedly on his wrist. Beside him, Travis chuckled as Mac repeated the gesture, suddenly remembering the glob on one cheek. Speed licked his lips, and Mac figured _What the hell_ as he stepped over to the younger man who stood and licked it off his cheek, then looked him deep in the eyes. "Thanks for doing that, Mac."

"No problem," Mac replied, bewildered, when Speed gave him a friendly kiss on the lips.

"All right, guys," Travis said loudly, "let's get him off this thing. Trance, Hoppy, you wanna grab that chair and bring it over here? Felix and Jaelix, un-strap him. Get him loose, but for God's sake, don't let him move yet! We need to get all the kinks out of his muscles, or he could wind up straining something. As long as we're careful getting him unfolded, I think he'll be fine."

"I also think," Horatio said in a voice rough from all his screaming, "that I will never have trouble finding a place to park _ever_ again."

Speed squatted so that he was at eye level with his blindfolded lover, his breath tickling the redhead's cheek. "Welcome back, Pet. How was it?"

Horatio's face tensed briefly, and a single _click-clack!_ hit Speed's ears. Positive response. "I'll tell you more when everything returns to its God-intended proportions."

As hands worked over his lover's body, carefully undoing the restraints and still holding him in place, Speed pulled the blindfold off and uncovered Horatio's slightly foggy blue eyes. "Hey, you," Speed whispered in greeting. "I know it's kind-of a moot point, but you ready to level out?"

Horatio blinked once. "I love you, Speed," he declared quietly.

Speed blinked back, and a slow and happy smile spread over his face. "Love you, too, H. Now let's get you off this fuck-table and onto something more comfortable."

"Appreciate it," the redhead groaned.

Mac stood back and watched as a fully unbound Horatio, still held in position, was approached by four other men. Each one took a limb and began massaging it with steady hands as Felix and Jaelix held his arms in place. Slowly, ever so slowly, one dug sure fingers into the elbow joint and forearm muscles, and Horatio groaned for entirely different reasons as Felix slowly straightened it. The process was repeated for his other arm, and now four hands worked on each arm and the attached shoulders, working out the stiffness of having been so tightly clenched for so long.

Two other men were kneeling, one at each leg and completely ignoring the redhead's eye-level privates, massaging calf and thigh muscles. Travis was working Horatio's glutes, standing between the redhead's legs and massaging the large muscles, and Mac wondered briefly if there was a muscle group in Horatio's body that _wasn't_ going to be sore in the morning.

Travis finally declared his limbs tolerably loose and supervised the redhead's return to the upright position. He didn't come close, though, as they had to massage his back and stomach, too. Felix and Jaelix supported his arms and shoulders as they hobbled the poor man over to the 'chair' Travis had indicated, what looked like a padded poolside lounge chair built for two. They eased Horatio onto his back with all the care of hospital orderlies and a stiff old man, and Horatio couldn't hold back a wry smile as he was lowered onto the thick cushion with an appreciative groan.

Speed eased down next to him and offered him a glass of ice water with a straw. "How you feeling, H?" he murmured. Mac eased himself to sit at the foot of the 'chair,' noting with a small bit of irony at how Horatio was keeping his knees bent to shelter his abused asshole.

Horatio took a long drink, feeling his raw throat sting. "Well and truly fucked, thank you," he croaked. Travis reached into a bag that Mac hadn't even noticed and pulled out what looked like a tiny piece of candy but was in reality a throat lozenge, which Horatio accepted with a nod of thanks. "There is one thing I want to know, Speed."

"What's that?"

Horatio looked levelly at him. "How many people fucked me tonight? I lost count."

Speed glanced around the room, counting with his finger. "Four, not counting me, Mac, or the fist. I think you came four times, by the way, if you count the last one."

Horatio blew out a heavy breath and shook his head. "I can't believe you thought of that. I haven't been fisted in years."

"Well, thank Hoppy. He's the guy that had his arm halfway up your ass." All three of them glanced over at the late-thirties man with the head of steel-gray hair, who was busy packing his things to take them to be sanitized.

Mac spoke up. "I still can't believe you actually _did_ that. I can understand how you think that getting my dick inside somebody else is a struggle, but… my God, Horatio, he had his _arm_ in you!"

"Aw, that's nothing," Speed said casually. "I've been double-fisted."

Mac blinked slowly. "Do I want to know what that means?"

"He means two hands at once, Mac. Laced fingers." Horatio clenched the glass between his knees and demonstrated. "I think it was… nearly twenty minutes, right, Speed? Before you were stretched far enough for him to get both hands into position? And he was a fairly small man, too."

"Something like that, yeah," Speed nodded. "Twenty minutes of nothing but slow anal stretching. But God _damn_, it was worth it."

Trance strolled over, somehow pulling off a look that was both jovial and bored. "I'll bet it wasn't worth it for Cain, though. For the next week straight, he might as well have been opening up a window and fucking the night."

Horatio shot a bemused glance at the man. "And how would you know?"

Trance shrugged. "Because that's what my ex said to me, last time I got _single_-fisted."

It was then that Travis came stalking up to them, looking less than happy. "I think you're going to be fine, Cain, but _you_," and he pointed at Speed, "have a problem. You didn't tell me you were going to fist him."

Trance eyed the angry proctologist and casually wandered away.

"I didn't think it would _be_ a problem," Speed replied, looking annoyed. "Hoppy knows what he's doing."

"I don't care!" Travis snapped irritably. "Do you have any idea how many people end up in the hospital each year, or the _morgue_, because they were getting fisted by somebody that got careless or didn't have enough experience?"

Speed's face and tone indicated to Mac that they'd had this discussion before. "Travis, half the things we do in this club could kill you, and you know it. That's why we do them _here_, with good equipment and experienced players and medical personnel. You take that away and we're not going to stop doing it, so you might as well make sure that we do it _right_. Hell, that's the reason you're practicing out of Deviate in the first place, isn't it?"

Travis could only glare at him. "You want to know something? _That's_ why I bailed out of your last scene." And he stalked away without another word.

Mac glanced back at the Miami lovers, who were both looking at him. "Mac," Horatio said smoothly, "remember our little session back in New York, and you asked me about over-stimulation?"

Mac nodded. "You said it was dangerous if done improperly, right?"

Horatio nodded. "Fisting is even more powerful than that. Travis wasn't joking, Mac, when he said that it could kill you. So if you _ever_ want to try it, please make sure that it's in a respectable establishment."

"Respectable, my ass," Trance shot back, returning to the group now that Travis had stormed out. "If this is respectable, then why haven't I seen my incredibly hot Art professor in a leather body suit yet?"

"You know what he meant," Speed growled good-naturedly.

They lapsed into a comfortable silence, Trance plopping on the foot of the lounge chair next to Mac, and the group watched as Artie dissembled his creation and the sanitizer crew began going to work. "You know what?" Trance said suddenly. "I think what we all need right now is alcohol."

Speed nodded thoughtfully. "I wanna get drunk, and I was just _watching_ Cain get his ass pounded."

"You started it," Mac cut in. Speed ducked his head and muttered something Mac couldn't hear.

Trance reached up to casually—and carefully—slap Horatio's ankle. "So, how about it, Cain? Wanna go get plastered?"

"I believe I do, Trance." Horatio started to get up, and stopped. "Fender? Can you…"

"Oh, say it, H," Speed said with a grin. "Nobody expects you to be up and running after a session like that. Here," and he leaned over to help lift Horatio as Mac stood and carefully caught one of the redhead's arms. "Oops-a-daisy, Grandpa."

Standing but still a bit stooped, Horatio turned to glare at his lover. "Watch it, boy, or you're next on the table."

Speed made his eyes big and pouty as he stood. "You promise?"

Trance flopped onto his back on the now-empty lounge chair, clutching his stomach and laughing. "That's why I like you guys so much," he gasped. "You're so fuckin' funny!"

Mac could appreciate the humorous response, but "I don't think he was joking."

"I wasn't," Speed confirmed.

"Neither was I," Horatio seconded as he hung on Mac's arm.

"Exactly!" Trance finished. They all looked at one another and couldn't help a few more chuckles and snorts. "C'mon, let's go get drunk."

The quartet got dressed and headed for the bar near the dance floor. In the dim light, all the tables and chairs were done in black-light paint, with red bulbs hanging over the tables for quite the interesting visual effect.

Mac volunteered to drive the group home, so he only ordered water. Mac's eyebrow lifted when Speed asked the bartender for a Car Bomb, and Horatio ordered something called an Ankle Breaker. The trio got their drinks and found a table while Trance was arguing with the bartender about his own drink.

Mac watched Horatio sip his combination of lime, rum, and cherry brandy. Speed looked like he was about to need a spoon, the foam on his drink was so thick. And then Trance walked over to the table with three pony glasses, the ingredients layered. He slid one over to Mac, who immediately held up a hand in protest. "I'm designated driver."

"Aw, c'mon, it's just a Well-Greased Dwarf."

Mac stared at him.

Trance waved his hand dismissively. "Long story. It's Crème de Cacao, Sambuca, and Bailey's."

Speed furrowed his brow. "Isn't Sambuca made from aniseeds, which are also used to flavor absinthe?"

Trance's eyes traveled around the table, and he suddenly reared his head back and downed an ounce of the layered mixture from one glass. "Maybe."

Mac frowned at the young man. "You're trying to give the designated driver a hallucinogen?"

"It's not _real_ absinthe!" Trance protested. "It just tastes like licorice! Look, here," and he switched the half-empty glass for the full one in front of Mac, "drink half of one, take a while to see how it hits you. If you're drunk, I'll call all you guys a cab and the fare's on me."

Speed lifted an eyebrow, absently licking a glob of foam off one fingertip. "It's gonna be kinda hard for me and H to get to work tomorrow on my bike, and it's not even fixed yet."

The argument was solved when Mac suddenly growled and downed the sweet, syrupy mixture in a single gulp. He leaned back and waited for it to hit him.

Nothing.

Mac shrugged a shoulder. "I like licorice." He pushed the glass away and reached for his water. It was a myth that drinking plenty of water diluted alcohol's absorption into the bloodstream; he just wanted something to do with his hands.

"We're making you walk in a straight line before you drive home," Speed said sternly.

"Glad I'm carpooling," Trance muttered, downing another ounce in a few gulps. "I just wanna get laid one more time before I leave." He turned to leer outright at Mac as he spoke.

Mac stared at the younger man, the alcohol in his system momentarily forgotten. "Are you always this…?"

"Horny?" Trance gave an evil cackle worthy of any bad pirate movie. "Come on, I'm a college student. My primary vocation is finding ways to get laid." He tilted his head back and finished off the drink, slapping the glass back on the table. "I felt what you were packing earlier, and I want a real piece of it."

Mac's bewildered and somewhat startled look shifted to Horatio and Speed, who were both grinning shamelessly. Horatio lifted his drink, speaking over the rim. "I'm honestly surprised that this is only the first proposition you've gotten, Mac."

"Me, too," Speed seconded. "I was sure they'd start falling all over you the minute you whipped it out." He lifted his glass, as if in toast.

Mac looked back at the eager young man, his own face still frozen in shock. "You want me to fuck you?"

"Hell yes!" Trance slid his empty glass towards the middle of the table, standing up. "Come on, next set's about to start. You can warm up out there." Mac set his drink down and allowed the younger man to grab his hand and start yanking.

Mac shot a glance at his Miami hosts, who were looking at him with a mixture of amusement (Horatio) and glee (Speedle). Speed lifted his glass again. "Have fun," he said almost offhandedly.

"I almost feel sorry about doing that to Mac," Horatio remarked as he watched Trance drag the Marine to the dance floor.

"I'm just glad Trance was so high and dry," Speed muttered, snuggling closer to his lover.

Horatio sighed and put an arm around the younger man's shoulders. "It's a bit cruel, but it's something Mac needs to find out on his own."

Speed nodded. "Think it'll work for him like it did for you?"

Horatio cocked his head, thinking. "I believe it will. He needs a stranger for this. We're too familiar. And after him seeing how much we trust each other, how willing I am to bottom to you, hopefully this will open his eyes."

Trance had actually been perfect for this little job, and again Horatio had to marvel at Speed's sexually charged ingenuity. The goal was to have Mac see how much Horatio trusted Speed, that Speed could put his lover through _all that_ and both of them still be in love. Then, when Mac was aching with frustration and feeling like the third wheel missing his fourth, that's when Speed would have the horny college student take advantage of him.

Speed had done the _exact_ same thing to Horatio, except that Speed had been the bottom and Hoppy had run the scene. After being paired with Speed for so long, the sight of him getting fucked by all those other men and subbing to Hoppy—his former Dom—had definitely opened Horatio's eyes. He had realized that there was more to his relationship with Speed than just sex. He had wanted Speed back, desperately, and then Speed had gotten shot before Horatio could put his feelings into words.

"I love you, Speed," Horatio said quietly and suddenly.

Speed's face cracked into a wide grin. "Old memories, huh? And I love you, too, H."

They glanced down at the table, and their barely-touched drinks. Speed's look at his lover was more than a little guilty. "I don't want to be the one to tell Mac that Bailey's is one of those delayed-reaction whiskeys."

"Neither do I." Horatio reached across the table for Mac's water and took a sip, and handed it to Speed. "A single 2-ounce drink should only be enough to slightly impair him for a few hours at the most, as healthy as he is and as infrequently as he imbibes."

"Just enough for this whole scheme to work, huh?" Speed's look was purely devious. He took a swig of the water, then grabbed his and Horatio's alcoholic drinks and stood. He walked over to another table full of rowdy college students. "Free drinks, just a few sips taken out of both. Nobody's done anything nasty to 'em. Cop's honor."

Mac wasn't much of a dancer, but he allowed Trance to lead him to the middle of the thronging crowd. The younger man immediately resumed their earlier position with his back to the Marine as the next techno song started up. It took Mac a moment to realize that it sounded familiar. "Vivaldi's _Four Seasons_?" he wondered with eyebrows high.

Trance nodded and let Mac get used to the situation. "Classical music remixed makes some of the best damn techno. You like it?"

"It's… nice," Mac allowed, amazed at how the gentle synthesizers and pulsing beat didn't jar with the piano at all.

"Well, you'd probably like Robert Miles' stuff, then," Trance told him. "He puts a lot of piano in his songs." He began grinding subtly against Mac as the song picked up pace, and Mac found himself grinding back before he realized it.

It was suddenly evident to the older man where Trance's club name had come from: he loved techno, and he was a surprisingly lithe dancer considering his physical build. The song ended and another started up, this one Mac recognized as a remix of Edvard Grieg's _In the Hall of the Mountain King_, and at this point Trance turned to face him, running subtle hands up and down Mac's sides and pressing their bodies together, and Mac was getting hard again. He'd forgotten that he got horny when he got drunk.

By the third song, both men were nearly painfully hard, sweating and panting, and Trance had taken to pressing his lips against Mac's neck, and Mac gave a low growl in his throat and placed broad hands on Trance's gyrating ass, and the younger man moaned into Mac's flesh.

As soon as the song was over, Trance pulled away and grabbed Mac's hand again, tugging him toward a small hallway at the edge of the room that the older man hadn't noticed earlier. He was amused to note that the sign over the entrance read "Quickies," plain and simple. There was a little booth just inside the aperture, and the thin blonde behind the counter saw them coming and lifted an infrared scanner.

Mac paused long enough for Trance to thrust his neck over the edge of the receptionist's little desk for her to scan his tag, and then the younger man followed her pointing finger to the doors lining the hall. Noises of sex from both genders—and all sorts of pairings and more-than-pairs—sounded out from behind the doors in lewd waves as Trance found an unoccupied booth, slapped the marker on the wall from "vacant" to "occupied," and hauled the Marine in with surprising strength.

Trance kicked the door closed behind him and started yanking Mac's clothing off, and Mac found himself responding to the enthusiastic lust of the younger man, pulling his shirt over his head and then going to work on Trance's. The college student, meanwhile, was busy unbuckling Mac's belt, his lips attached to Mac's collarbone.

Finally they were naked, and Trance's hands wandered every inch of Mac's body, and the Marine wasn't entirely surprised to realize that he was doing the same thing. Trance's touch became more and more frantic, groping Mac, stroking him, the younger man's breath hot in Mac's ear. "Do me," he hissed urgently, thrusting the foil square of a polyurethane condom into Mac's hand, and Mac's animal side took over.

Trance was suddenly sprawled on his back, laying on the cheap and surprisingly clean mattress in their little booth—the whole space was little bigger than two cubicles put together, now that Mac actually took the time to take a quick glance around—and Mac found several bottles of lube in the little 'nightstand,' slicking up two fingers and working them inside the younger man as slowly as he could bear. Trance was already somewhat stretched, interestingly enough; he'd probably gotten laid already at least once that night.

It was with a growl of lust that Mac sheathed and slicked up his thick cock and pressed it against Trance's entrance, and the younger man spread his legs wide as Mac pushed slowly in, burying himself in this (mostly) stranger. Mac started to move almost instantly, quickly building up a rhythm, his mind distantly cataloguing the interesting sensations coming from his cock. Turns out, polyurethane condoms were thinner than Latex, allowing for more friction—and also with less tensile strength.

Mac couldn't bring himself to care at the moment, however. It was a cheap, nasty little back-of-the-bar fuck, and that was exactly how he treated it. Trance writhed and howled on the mattress as Mac grasped his calf muscles and pounded into him over and over again. Mac was surprised at how aroused he was, and so recently after fucking Horatio, but then he'd never been one for a spontaneous, casual fuck. Having one seemed to do odd and incredible things to his libido.

Mac felt his orgasm rising and he welcomed it, snarling as he slammed into this young stranger hard, fast, deep, and then he was coming, shaking and growling, his body quivering as released inside the younger man, and then Trance was screaming, his hand on his own dick, shooting the thick white streamers that rained down onto his slightly hairy belly.

Mac didn't feel satisfied. He felt… even more uptight than ever. This whole scene, hell, this whole _place_ bothered him. He pulled out, peeling off his condom and flinging it at the garbage can, and then flopped back onto the bed. To his surprise, Trance scooted over to make room and covered Mac's modesty with the bedsheets, and they shared the cloth as they stared at nothing and caught their breath.

"I feel like I've cheated," Mac finally grumbled at the ceiling.

Trance glanced over. "On what?"

Mac gave a heavy sigh and closed his eyes. "On Danny."

"Who's Danny?" Trance asked reasonably, and his eyes widened. "Your boyfriend?"

Mac started to deny it, and then he remembered where he was, and the whole thing between him and Danny was so damn complicated anyway and he didn't feel like explaining it to the stranger that he'd just fucked, so he simply said "Yeah."

Trance sat up, dislodging the sheets. "Shit, you didn't tell me you had a boyfriend!"

Mac looked over at him, puzzlement warring with his own guilt. "Would it have affected your behavior if I had told you?"

"Abso-fuckin'-lutely!" Trance declared, his vehemence surprising the Marine. "I only went along with Deeps and Cain's little scene because I know that that's what they came here for. They fuck other people every now and then, but they're all about each other, and I respect that. I don't come between people, not if I can help it."

Mac was oddly touched. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable."

Trance blinked at him. "Hey, I'm the one that should be saying sorry to you." They looked at each other for a moment, and suddenly Trance grinned. "Wanna go make _them_ sorry instead?"

Mac considered that. "What do you suggest?"

Trance shrugged. "I was hoping you'd have an idea. I was just gonna get in their faces and chew 'em out."

"That works." Mac tossed the sheets aside and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

"Hey," Trance said softly, putting a hand on his shoulder, and Mac paused. The hand slid down to grasp Mac's, and then shook it. "Darrin Keith."

A slow smile spread over the Marine's face. "Mac Taylor." They gave each other a little smile before standing up and locating their clothing. "Now," Mac wondered idly, "are you really going to get in Hor—in Cain's face and scream?"

Trance froze, then shook his head. "I'm standin' behind _you_. I'd rather shave a bobcat's ass in a phone booth than piss those two off."

Mac gave his new friend an amused look at the image that sprang into his mind, of the college student trapped in a telephone booth with an electric shaver and an angry wildcat. "Why is that?"

Trance shrugged and hop-stepped into his cargo pants. "They're cops. They do all that shit with the evidence, you know? With the DNA and fingerprints and all of that, they know how to find it and they know how to make it go away."

Mac quirked a smile. _Should I tell him? Oh, why not?_ "So do I, actually. That's how I met them."

Trance froze, then gave a dramatic sigh and flopped back onto my bed. "Just my luck."

Mac chuckled. "Don't worry about it. To my knowledge, nothing illegal was done here tonight. And besides, I'm out of my jurisdiction anyway."

Darrin blinked at him for a moment. "New York, right?"

Mac nodded and sat on the bed, sliding his sandals onto his feet. "So what do you do?"

The younger man cocked his head. "Well, like I said, college student. Born in Kentucky, if you couldn't tell by the accent. I'm going to Dade University right now, majoring in electrical engineering."

Mac couldn't resist. "Hair-raising stuff."

Trance gave him a Look. "You have any idea how often I get that one?"

"Not often enough, I'm sure." Dressed, Mac stood and reached a hand down, and Trance clasped it and allowed the Marine to haul him to his feet. It surprised Mac when Trance ran a gentle hand along one cheek and then kissed his other. "What was that for?" Mac sputtered, eyebrows furrowed.

Trance smiled at him. "Just wanted to say 'thanks for the fuck,' and I hope everything works out between you and Danny."

Mac couldn't find anything to say, other than a quiet "thanks." He wanted Danny back—_GOD_, he wanted Danny back—but there were so many unresolved issues within himself, and it was wrong in so many ways, anyway. He'd meant what he'd said to Speed, that he could only love one person at a time. Maybe Speed could love more than one, but not Mac. And as far as Mac was concerned, his heart still belonged to Claire.

Odd, he was having trouble picturing her face, and that disturbed him on some level. It felt wrong, like he was spitefully ignoring her or something along those lines. It was strange: instead of Claire's warm brown eyes and long, curly light-brown hair, he was seeing an attractive Italian man with crystal blue eyes and a lazy smile, looking up at him from his spot next to Mac on the bed.

Mac blinked and shook his head, turning off the images in his mind. _I must be drunk_, he reasoned. _I've been doing just fine about not thinking about Danny tonight_. At the same time, he was getting the same nagging, neglecting feeling about the Italian. In a split-second, Mac wanted nothing more to wrap his arms around the younger man and kiss him slowly, before the sound of Trance opening the door brought him back to reality. Danny was back in New York, anyway.

"So, tell me about Danny," Trance began as they walked slowly down the hallway, before heading back out into the pulsating lights of the dance floor.

Mac cocked his head; for some reason, he was having trouble keeping hold of the fact that he'd dumped the Italian, and instead allowed a gentle smile to cross his face. "He's a little older than you, dark blond, blue eyes, my height, athletic build."

Darrin halted so quickly that Mac nearly plowed into him, and the younger man turned to give the Marine a steady look. "Try again, and this time leave the cop out of it."

Mac lifted an eyebrow but humored him. "Well, he is my height and a little older than you. He's… athletic. He wanted to play professional baseball, but he threw out his arm before he could ever sign a contract."

"Yeah, what else?" Trance was gently encouraging as they paused at the edge of the dance floor, where there was still some soundproofing between them and the pounding subwoofers.

"Dark blond hair, more of a tan, really. He's got… the most amazing blue eyes I've ever seen. He's nearsighted, though, so he usually wears glasses."

Trance smiled at him. "Is he smart? I'll bet he pulls off the smart look really well."

"Very." Mac's small smile grew. "And he's got this smile… this wonderful smile, like I can just look at him and know that…"

"That everything's okay?" Trance's own smile was quiet and sympathetic. "There something you not telling me, isn't there?"

Mac sighed and leaned against the wall. "We had a… a falling-out, about a week ago. I used some vacation time to spend a couple of days down here with Cain and Deeps. I just had to get away from the city. Get away from him."

Darrin leaned next to him. "Why? He sounds great, so why'd you two split up?"

Mac looked away. "My wife died… on 9/11. I just…" he sighed and scratched his head. "I can't seem to let her go."

Trance leaned up to put an arm around the Marine's shoulder. "I'm not going to say anything about that, because there's nothing I _can_ say." His sad smile belied a deeper empathy than a regular, slightly drunk college student might show. "Like I said, I hope it works out between you two."

Mac's lips curled in a sudden smile, and he looked down at his young friend. "Did I mention that he's Italian?"

Darrin's eyes widened and he blew out a sudden, aroused breath. "Lucky man. You'd better go back to him before somebody else snatches him up."

Mac allowed himself a slightly possessive smile as they wove through the crowd back to the bar. Horatio and Speed's drinks were nowhere to be seen, and they were sharing Mac's water in between not-so-casual groping under the table.

Trance was still cheerful, but as they approached the table Mac could see the anger starting to emerge into the younger man's eyes. Darrin stomped right over to his friends, slammed his palms down on the table, and glared at them. "You didn't tell me he had a boyfriend."

Horatio schooled his expression and looked at Mac with puzzlement. "Didn't Fender mention it to you?"

"No, he didn't," Trance growled. "He was too doped up on pheromones and booze to do more than fuck me stupid. I'm gonna be walking funny for a week."

"Guess you had a good night, then," Speed said casually, his hand suddenly doing something under the table that made Horatio's eyes flutter closed.

Trance shook his head and pointed a stubby forefinger at both of them. "If you _ever_ pull a stunt like that on me ever again, I'll kick your asses so hard, you'll be rimming yourselves!"

"That would be something to see," Horatio said in an aroused growl, returning Speed's favor and making his lover give a little moan.

Mac sighed and put his hands on his hips. "If you two don't mind, I'd like to go home now."

Trance suddenly swung in front of Mac and planted a casual kiss on his lips. "Nice to meet you, Mac," he murmured. "Good luck with Danny, okay?"

Mac blinked in surprise, and then smiled and gave a small kiss back. "Thank you, Darrin."

"Hey, I thought we were leaving," came Speed's insistent voice. Mac turned to see that he and Horatio were already standing with their arms around each other.

Mac looked back at Darrin, smiled, and shook his head. "Take care."

Mac drove himself, Horatio, and Speed home. The Miami couple had given Mac an impromptu sobriety test, which he passed with flying colors. Horatio and Speed _did_ let go of their inhibitions enough for Mac to believe they were a bit tipsy, though. On the drive, the Marine sat by himself up front, his eyebrows high as he couldn't help catching glances in the rearview mirror of his friends pawing each other like teenagers in the backseat.

Finally Mac pulled into the driveway, located the remote button for the garage door, and pulled in. Speed's mostly fixed Ducati sat proudly in the second space, surrounded by tool benches. Mac closed the garage door, opened his own door, and paused. Odd, his hosts were suspiciously quiet. He twisted in his seat and instantly regretted it.

Speed's bare back was plastered against his window and Horatio had somehow managed to make his six-foot frame comfortable while laying facedown on the seat cushion, Speed's dick halfway down his esophagus. Speed's shirt had been wadded up and pressed against the window to act as a cushion for the younger man's head, and Horatio's suit jacket was hanging over the seat, and Horatio looked as though he was bound and determined to suck Speed's brains out through his dick.

For his part, Speed's head was back, eyes closed, mouth open in a silent cry, and Mac was beginning to think that Horatio _was_ sucking Speed's brains out. Speed even had one hand outstretched, frozen in midair, and Mac wasn't even sure the man was breathing. Matter of fact… he hadn't seen Horatio come up for air yet, either.

"I hate to interrupt," Mac said dryly, "but this is a crime scene photo that I'd rather not have to discuss in court."

Horatio pulled back, and the lovers both took heaving gasps. Carefully Horatio rearranged himself back into a sitting position and grabbed his jacket while Speed stuffed himself back into his pants and grabbed his shirt, and they opened their doors and climbed out of the car. "Mac, you mind walking Locard?" Speed asked casually as Horatio unlocked the door to the house.

Mac shrugged. "I can do that."

"Thanks." The Miami lovers headed upstairs, and Mac quirked a little smile as he went to the laundry room for the dog and the leash. He took his time, enjoying the warm breeze that blew in from the ocean, letting everything that had happened to him that night sort itself out in his mind.

He was almost regretful to put the dog back in the laundry room; he really did like dogs. He locked the back door and went up the stairs, his ears immediately assaulted by the sounds of moaning. He sighed and headed down the hall to the master bedroom, where Horatio and Speed lay naked on their sides, kissing and petting. Speed's hand pushed Horatio's shoulder down gently and the younger man climbed atop him, slurping on a peaked nipple.

"My God, you're like rabid animals!" Mac grumped. "How in the hell can you still be in the mood for sex? I would've thought you'd be exhausted by now!"

Horatio gave Mac a tired smile. "I am, but scenes like that… I'm not sure why, but it just fills me with the urge to make love to Speed."

Speed lifted his head from Horatio's nipple. "Like I said before, Mac, orgies are all about sex and nothing else. Now that we've got the mindless debauchery out of the way, we can concentrate on why we stick with each other; what makes H so special to me and me alone."

Mac blinked back the sudden hurt that came from the half-unintended barb, and he found himself wishing that Danny was next to him. The realization that he wasn't, that here Mac was just a third wheel, cut him more deeply than he wanted to admit. He closed his eyes and banished the image of Danny's crystalline eyes and dazzling smile, and opened them to see Speed still on top of Horatio.

"So, H, you wanna do me?" Speed gave the redhead a sultry smile.

Horatio nipped at his lover's neck. "Speed, I would _love_ to do you."

They rolled so that Speed was on the bottom, and Horatio reached over to the nightstand for the lube, stroking himself as he began stretching his lover, and Speed moaned again. Mac gave a long-suffering smile and sat on the loveseat, feeling himself get hard again.

Finally Speed was ready for Horatio to slide into him, fucking him gently and running lips over Speed's neck and chest. Speed groaned and wrapped his legs around the older man's waist, his hands clenching the pale shoulders while Horatio slid in and out of him, a look of erotic euphoria on both their faces.

_This_ was the sort of sex that Mac could get into: two or three familiar people, loving and appreciating and enjoying each other. And damn him, but Horatio was right: Mac was a bit of a voyeur, and Speed loved to put on a show. He found himself taking his cock out of his pants and stroking it, watching as Horatio thrust into the younger man, rutted into him, cherished him.

Horatio began panting, but it wasn't from orgasm. He shook his head and slowed, then grunted and sped up again. Finally he came to a stop and sighed. "I don't think I can come again, Speed."

Speed gave his lover a comforting smile. "It's all right, H. I honestly didn't think you'd be able to, after all I put you through tonight."

Horatio returned the smile. "Love you, Speed," he murmured, lowering himself to lay atop the younger man and giving him a soft kiss. "Thank you for this evening."

"No problem." Speed kissed his lover back, and he heard a grunt from across the room. He broke the liplock and peered over Horatio's shoulder to see Mac with his cock still in his hand, looking a little frustrated. "Want some help with that?"

Mac sighed and glanced between the lovers. "If you don't mind."

Horatio gave Speed another kiss and rolled off of him, and Speed spread his legs shamelessly. "Here, kitty kitty," he crooned. Mac shook his head and gave a lopsided grin as well as a sarcastic purring noise that came out as more of a growl, shedding his clothing and climbing onto the bed. "Horny bastard, aren't ya?" Speed teased as Mac crawled between his legs.

"Takes one to know one," Mac grunted, taking the condom and lube that Horatio held out to him. "You two start messing around with each other and that gets _me_ going, and the whole thing snowballs."

Horatio chuckled as Mac prepped himself and then began sliding slowly in, letting his careful entrance finish stretching Speed out, and in no time Speed's legs slid around the muscular waist and locked at the ankles, and Mac planted his hands on either side of Speed's torso and bucked his hips into the younger man, growling quietly and stroking himself into the tight heat.

Speed was moaning with every thrust as Horatio slid over until one hand found Speed's cock, the redhead nosing Speed's neck and nibbling on his ear, and Speed arched his back and tightened his hold on Mac, groaning out his lover's name as he came around the Marine, and the contractions gripped Mac so wonderfully that his body jerked and shuddered and he let out an animal growl as found his own release.

Mac was tired now, but in his mind he was still frustrated. He'd fucked three different people tonight, and it still didn't seem to be enough. He refused to acknowledge that maybe, just _maybe_ it was because none of the people he'd fucked had been Danny.

"That was good, Mac," Speed told him, bringing the Marine out of his reverie, and Mac took the hint and pulled out. He climbed off the bed and stretched, trying to ignore the thoughts nagging at his mind as well as ignore the sounds of soft kissing and sweet nothings being exchanged by his hosts still on the bed.

Speed finally stood as well, and Horatio rolled onto his stomach on one side of the bed, letting his face hit the pillow and giving a tired sigh. "Could you do me a favor, Mac?" he began quietly.

Mac shook his shoulders, little popping noises sounding up and down his spine. "Sure."

"Please get me a pair of shorts out of the dresser across the room. I don't think moving would be a very good idea right now." He burrowed his face into his pillow, leaving his ass an open target which Speed gleefully pounced on, giving one globe a kiss in cartoonish fashion, over-loud sound effects and all. After the comical _pop!_ of air returning to the space between Speed's lips and Horatio's ass, the younger man brought one palm down in a playful smack on the other cheek. Then he sat back on his heels and waited.

Horatio lifted his head to look over his shoulder and gave a glare that normally would've sent chills down Speed's spine, if the redhead hadn't been so worn out. Unfortunately, with his mussed hair falling over his face and the definite lines of exhaustion under his eyes, the best he could pull off was a Look. Frowning at his own weakness, Horatio growled and let his forehead drop back into his pillow, which made a quiet little _whuff!_ noise as he did so.

"Glad you didn't do that on my side," Speed said casually as he slapped his woodhusk-filled pillow. "That mighta hurt." He snickered and put his fists on the bed, crawling over to his lover to press a gentle kiss to the proffered neck before climbing off the bed. "I'm gonna grab another shower," he announced. "I reek of sweaty, sexy goodness."

"Congratulations," Horatio muttered, his voice muffled against the pillow.

Mac cocked his head and stepped over to the dresser, taking a moment to figure out which section of clothing was made for Horatio's slimmer waist and grabbing a pair of rust-red shorts. "There a reason he doesn't have feathers on his side?" he asked, just to make conversation.

Horatio shrugged one shoulder. "He's allergic to goose-down. He's around it long enough, it makes his skin break out."

Mac hadn't known that, and he filed it away as he stepped over to the bed and handed the redhead his shorts, and Horatio put them on quietly and went back to laying face-down. In the bathroom, Mac heard the shower start up and he realized that once again Speed hadn't taken clean clothes with him. The man truly had no shame.

They lay there in silence for a long time, so long that Mac was beginning to think that his companion had drifted off to sleep when the older man lifted his face from the pillow to look at him. "I wanted to try to answer your earlier question, Mac," Horatio began quietly.

Mac furrowed his brows at the redhead. "What question?"

"When you were asking Speed about why it was a good thing that I was in tears."

The Marine blinked. "You were listening? I would've thought you were… occupied."

"I was, in more ways than one," Horatio admitted with a chuckle. "Sometimes the best way to enjoy something is to let yourself get distracted from it. Eventually whatever's happening to you becomes a sort of all-encompassing background."

Speed came back into the bedroom, his hair damp and a towel around his waist. "Pretty accurate way to describe it, H."

Horatio raised a warning finger. "Thank you, Speed. And you know better than to get into bed while you're still wet, don't you?"

"I know, I know," Speed grumbled, bending to scrub the towel up his ankles. "So Mac, what'd you and Trance talk about?"

Mac wanted to tell them about his breakup with Danny. He felt horrible about lying to his friends, and at the same time he knew what kind of preaching he'd get if he came clean. So he folded his hands behind his head and shrugged his shoulders as he stared at the ceiling. "Nothing much. He asked me about Danny."

Speed dried his arms and chest, not the slightest bit self-conscious about his nudity. "What'd you say?"

Mac tilted his head, pondering. "He wanted to know what Danny was like. I don't know why I gave up as much as I did, honestly. I may have had a little too much to drink."

Speed stared at him. "Mac, you barely had any alcohol at all!"

Mac sighed. He wanted to blame the alcohol for spilling so much about Danny, and for fucking Trance. He refused to admit that he couldn't let go of the Italian any more than he could let go of Claire. He couldn't get Claire's eyes out of his mind… or Danny's heart-melting smile.

Why couldn't love just leave him alone?

"Well, you're not mad at him, are you?" Speed interrupted his thoughts.

Mac focused his eyes on the younger man. "At Darrin? No, I don't suppose so."

"Good." Speed wandered back into the bathroom and slung the towel over the bar, pausing to take a piss before returning the bedroom. He started to climb into bed when Horatio stopped him.

"Shorts, Speed."

Speed pouted.

"We have a guest, so be polite. We've made Mac uncomfortable enough as it is." Horatio turned to look at their guest. "I apologize, again, for setting you up with Trance."

Mac sighed. "It's all right. I guess I just didn't see it coming. I mean, Danny knows that I've slept with you, Horatio, and I don't think he would mind Tim."

"You still haven't told him?" Speed interjected, digging through his side of the dresser. "Mac, that was three months ago!"

Mac sighed and rubbed his face with both hands. "I know, I know, I just… I don't know how he would take it, and I keep putting it off."

"Mac," Horatio said gently, "Danny and I discussed this, the day that I topped you back in New York. I asked him _specifically_ how he would feel about you sleeping with someone else. He said that he thought it would be okay, as long as you came back to him, and as long as he _knew about it beforehand_. The longer you hide it, the more it will seem to him like you're trying to."

"And we _all_ know what it looks like when somebody _doesn't_ say something because they think it'll look bad," Speed added, sliding on a pair of dark green boxers.

Mac gave a growl and flopped onto his back, draping a forearm over his eyes. "I've really made a mess of things, haven't I?"

"Well, I wouldn't say that," Speed amended, crawling onto the bed and depositing himself between the older men. "The problem is, you're not treating this like a regular relationship."

Mac peered from under his arm at the younger man. "How do you mean?"

"Think about it. If Danny was a girl, would you even be in this room right now? Would you have gone clubbing with me and H?"

Mac thought about it. And he realized, "No, on both counts."

Horatio leaned up on his elbow to see over Speed. "Exactly. You've gotten into the mindset that since your relationship with Danny isn't the same as with a woman, then the normal rules don't apply. Mac, they _absolutely_ apply."

"But, you two—"

"Are just like every other couple. We fight, too. I'm admittedly irritable about Locard's hair everywhere, and Speed snores."

"I do not!" the man in question protested, and Horatio tapped him on the flank.

"Speed is also an excellent cook," Horatio continued. "We take care of each other, Mac. Why do you think I was so eager to have him move in here, besides the obvious? Because I felt that he needed me next to him, to help him through everything."

"Still do," Speed murmured, leaning back against his lover's chest.

"There are only two differences between a heterosexual relationship and a homosexual one. The first is, of course, physiology. The other is that we have to hide it." Horatio's voice was stern, but there was a definite sadness behind the words. "Some people can afford to come out of the closet, but we can't. Even holding his hand in public is out of the question."

He made up for lost time by sliding a hand across his lover's waist, and Speed threaded their fingers together. "Mac," the redhead continued, "Danny _loves_ you. You just refuse to admit it because he isn't a woman."

"Hey, does Danny ever top?" Speed's question came suddenly.

Mac didn't even have to think about it. "No, he doesn't."

"Because he never wants to, or because you never offer?"

Now, he did have to think about that one. "I never offer," he admitted, "but I don't think he wants to."

Horatio bent a kiss to his lover's shoulder, but delivered just a hint of teeth to rein him in. "Some people are born to be tops, Mac. Some people are born to be bottoms. And some people are born to be switches. It can actually vary between relationships. Not usually, but… I'm sure that when Danny is with women, he likes to be on top."

The thought of Danny with a woman just seemed odd to Mac, but he took it at face value. "I think he does. I'm not sure."

"Ask him." Speed's warm brown eyes regarded him with something closer to forgiveness. "That's why we go clubbing. We're feeding desires that we didn't even know we had. And before you ask, we actually don't fuck other people all that often."

Horatio nodded. "Maybe once a month we'll have a session with a third party. Other than that, though, the only time we sleep with other people is whenever I'm on a cover date."

Speed grumbled at that. He tossed an aside to Mac, saying "No need for you to do that, Mac. You're not the dating type, anyway. Anybody can see that."

Mac furrowed his brow. "How do you mean?"

Speed glanced at Horatio, who shrugged as if to say 'I give up.' Speed gave an apologetic half-smile and turned back to the Marine. "The whole night, you were just uncomfortable and disinterested. There's two kinds of voyeurs: the ones that make you feel like a freak while they stare at you, and the ones that get you hot because they're appreciating what you're showing them. Sure you participated, but it wasn't out of emotion."

"You were being polite," Horatio agreed. "Think hard, Mac. You participated in an all-male group fuck because you didn't want to be rude."

"And that's why nobody was hitting on you," Speed finished. "Even though you had one of the biggest dicks in the room, nobody wanted to talk to you because you just had this look on your face like you were uncomfortable. I'll give you that you were new to the scene, but that wasn't all that was bothering you."

Horatio locked eyes with Mac. "It was because Danny wasn't there, wasn't it?"

Mac gave a long sigh and stared at the ceiling. "Yeah."

Speed shrugged. "You'll fuck us, because you're used to us. And because we have our little unspoken agreement about whatever happens in bed _stays_ in bed."

"Or on the couch," Horatio put in with a rare spurt of glee, and Speed snorted.

Mac couldn't help a chuckle at that one and he pulled the sheets over himself, suddenly unwilling to sleep by himself. "If you gentlemen don't mind, I'm kinda tired now," he said calmly, hoping they would get the hint and stop talking about Danny.

Horatio nodded. "Sleep sounds good to me. We'll see you in the morning, Mac."

Another day, another crime scene. Horatio sighed and stood amidst the carnage. Four young people lay dead in the grass with bullets in their heads, and two more men in white shirts and red ties were laid carefully on the ground side by side. The grand majority of his crime scene consisted of a small, wrecked twin-engine airplane with the word "Police" clearly painted on the tail.

A downed police prison transport in the Everglades… not the way he wanted to start off his day. He glanced over his shoulder. "Copilot dead too, Frank?"

Frank sighed and tapped his notebook absently. "Yeah, he's inside," he drawled gruffly.

"And they got the Marshal's gun," Horatio grumbled.

Frank nodded. "Pilot radioed a Mayday, but the controller couldn't understand what he was sayin'."

Horatio took a step forward, glaring at the aircraft as though he could see through the exterior to find the problem. "Frank, this plane was sabotaged. Witnesses saw smoke a mile away."

Frank's face was tight as he stared at the wreckage. "This is gonna fall on the Chief. He's the one that authorized Henry Darius flyin' down here to find the body of Lydia Johnson."

"Against my wishes," Horatio growled.

Frank decided to leave that one alone, and flipped open the notebook sitting in a hand the size of a catcher's mitt. "Kids' parents say they drove a yellow convertible Mustang. I'll put out a broadcast, for Darius and a convict to be named later."

"Armed and dangerous, Frank," Horatio reminded him. He stepped toward the aircraft, to check in with Calleigh and Eric who were poking around inside. Eric had found the cause of the crash, a punctured air duct containing hot-bleed air that kept the warmth away from the engines. With the pipe punctured, one engine had overheated.

Horatio nodded at the findings as Calleigh began to dig out the black box, and the redhead went back out into the sunlight where Tripp was stepping carefully through the grass toward him. "I notified New York," Frank informed him. "Detective Taylor sends his regards and offers his services."

"Mac's a good man," Horatio mused. Through sheer dumb luck, Frank had reached Danny of all people, and the Italian had forwarded the call to Mac's cell. They had agreed to not say anything about Mac's little 'vacation' unless it came under direct scrutiny.

"I figured you'd say that," Frank went on. "I'll tell him to come on down."

"We need everybody that Darius dealt with at Attica, okay?"

Frank nodded. "I'll tell him."

Horatio paused. "I'll call him, Frank. I know his cell number."

Frank thought about that, and shrugged his huge shoulders. It was good that his boss had such good relations with the guys in New York, especially since they seemed to work together so often. He tossed the whole idea over his shoulder and into Horatio's capable hands and went back to talk to his officers.

"You're _kidding_." Mac's voice came from Horatio's cell phone. "My people at the crime lab redirected your Detective Tripp's call to me, but I almost didn't believe it."

"Believe it, Mac. Darius is armed and at large."

What followed was a good thirty seconds of some of the most vulgar swearing Horatio had ever heard, which was saying something considering Speed's occasional outbursts. He heard a noise that sounded like a cough, and then another sound not unlike Mac wiping his mouth on his sleeve. "Darius, loose," Mac finally grunted. "That's a nightmare I hoped that I would never face again."

"No argument here," Horatio sighed. "I've read his case files, too."

Mac gave an answering sigh. "This tosses a wrench into all my plans. I was going to fly back to New York tonight."

Horatio chuckled. "Come on, Mac, we both know that you were going to wait until the morning, so you could enjoy more of the 'hospitality' of Speed and myself." He wanted to delay Mac's return as long as possible, to overload the Marine's mind with scenes of love and trust before sending him flying straight back to Danny.

The redhead could almost hear the grin quirking the corners of Mac's mouth. "I need to get back home before Tim adds another ten pounds to my waistline."

"You'll exercise it off, I'm sure."

Mac snorted. "No wonder you two are in such good shape. Healthy diet and all the exercise you can stand."

"Mm-hmm." Horatio let the mirth slide from his voice, putting his free hand on his hip. "And I hate to do this, but I'm going to ask you to wait until you can match times from flights entering Miami from New York. That is, unless you'd like to explain why you're already in town."

Mac thought hard; his reputation versus the trail of a killer. Naturally, he'd pick the killer's trail any day—and Horatio would as well—but there could be a way to have his cake and eat it, too. "Maybe I came down here to watch you walk Darius around the Everglades on a leash," he suggested.

Horatio shot that idea down. "Then wouldn't you already be here, waiting for the jet?"

Mac thought a moment. "Jet, that gives me an idea. Maybe I've just caught a direct flight on a private jet. If you don't mind, I'm going to get on your computer and contact the New York crime lab, get all the relevant files from the case."

"Feel free. I'll see you in a few hours."

"Cocoa Riding Club," Calleigh's voice came through the earpiece of Horatio's cell phone at the crime lab, several hours later. "She would have arrived at around eleven AM this morning."

"I know where that is, Calleigh. Thank you." Horatio flipped his phone shut and looked up in time to see a familiar figure step off the elevator, a red binder in one hand and his flight bag over his shoulder. Good thing he'd brought along a suit, too.

"Lieutenant Caine," Mac greeted, shaking the hand of the redhead that he'd woken up next to.

"Detective Mac Taylor." Horatio returned the greeting.

Mac gave a grudging smile. "I could've used a tailwind," he said, loud enough for any bystanders to hear.

"No worries," Horatio soothed. _Don't overdo it, Mac._

Mac was all business, though. "I heard that Darius already hit a sorority house."

"Yes, Miami University," Horatio confirmed, likewise shunting his innuendo. "He's looking for somebody specific, Mac."

"We have a name?"

Horatio nodded. "Alexa Endecott, twenty-one, no longer using her cell phone."

"We know where she is?" Mac asked, feeling a small knot of dread building in his stomach.

Horatio gave him a worried, protective look. "We do. The bad news, Mac, is that so does he. Come on." Mac nodded and followed the redhead through the brightly lit warren of steel and glass and lights, heading for the garage.

The garage attendant saw Horatio coming, saw the purpose in his stride, and held up the clipboard and the keys for the redhead to swipe with his left hand even as he scribbled his initials with his right. He had a job to do and not a lot of time to do it in, and paperwork just got in the way.

"I still don't believe this," Mac growled as he tossed his flight bag into the back of the Hummer. "I fly down here for a couple of days off, and Darius downs his own plane?"

Horatio was not without a sense of irony as he slid behind the wheel. "No rest for the wicked, hmm? By the way, nice touch with the flight bag. Are those the case documents in that binder?"

Mac nodded and climbed into the passenger seat. "I can't decide if this is serendipity, or what. Maybe Darius is screwing with me."

Horatio turned the ignition. "Darius doesn't toy with people, although sometimes it can seem that way. How'd you get to the lab, by the way? Take a cab?"

"No, Tim brought me."

Horatio drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as he pulled out of the garage. "It's another one of his days off and I hate to push him, but I may end up having to call him in. Alexx has an entire row of bodies from that sorority house, and that hopefully means plenty of trace."

"Well," Mac sighed, tilting his head from side to side, popping the vertebrae, "When I got the call, I was helping him with his bike again. The dog is fed and walked and there's no laundry to be done, so I don't see why he couldn't pop in to help with the lab work."

Horatio snorted. "Never figured you for the domestic type, Mac," he chuckled as he drove.

He wouldn't be chuckling for long.

They worked fast, frantic, but in the end they were too late. Darius had found who he'd come for and made a break for New York. Mac, of course, had no choice but to cut his vacation short and follow.

"I'm going with you," Horatio said firmly. "And I'm bringing Speed with me."

Mac cocked his head as he packed his bag. "I can see why you're wanting to come, Horatio, but why bring Tim, too?"

Horatio gave a neutral shrug. "He wants to see the city, and he'd also like to meet Danny in person. They're friends, Mac."

Mac blinked nervously before going back to his packing.

Horatio noticed, of course. He was hit with the sudden urge to spill the beans about his knowledge of Mac and Danny's breakup, but reined himself in. _Now is not the time. First we catch a killer, and then we can go about helping Danny._ "Do you mind, Mac? Me bringing Speed?"

Mac sighed. "I guess not. Is he packed?"

"It won't take long," Horatio assured him.

It didn't. Just a few bags to pack, a few pointed glances between the Miami couple, and then they were off.


End file.
